UCSB  UER-ARX 


UCSB  L/BRARV 


X 


O 


THE 


OCEAN  WAIFS 


A  STORY  OP 


ADVENTURE  ON  LAND  AND  SEA 


BY 

CAPTAIN    MAYNE    REID 

AUTHOR  OF  "THE  DESERT  HOME,"   "THE  BOY  HUNTERS,"  ETC.,  ETC. 


WITH    ILLUSTRATIONS 


A   NEW   EDITION 
WITH    A    MEMOIR    BY    R.    H.    STODDARD 


NEW    YORK 

JOHN  W.  LOVELL  COMPANY 

150  WORTH  STREET,  CORNER  MISSION  PLACE 


Entered  according  to  act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1869,  by 

FIELDS,     OSGOOD     &    CO., 
in  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


Entered  according  to  act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1885,  by 

THOMAS    K.     KNOX     &    CO., 
in  the  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


Entered  according  to  act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1889,  by 

WORTHINGTON    CO., 
in  the  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


NEW  YORK,  January  1st.  1809. 
MESSRS.  FIELDS,  OSGOOD  «fc  Co.: — 

I  accept  the  terms  offered,  and  hereby  concede  to  you  the  exclusive  right 
of  publication,  in  the  United  States,  of  all  my  juvenile  Tales  of  Adventure, 
known  as  Boys'  Novels. 

MAYNE  REID. 


TROWS 

PRINTING  AND  BOOKBINDING  COMPANY, 
rtW  YORK. 


ifEMOIR  OF  MAYKE   REID. 


ITo  one  who  has  written  books  for  the  yonng  during  the 
present  century  ever  had  so  large  a  circle  of  readers  aa 
Captain  Mayne  Reid,  or  ever  was  so  well  fitted  by  circum- 
stances to  write  the  books  by  which  he  is  chiefly  known. 
His  life,  which  was  an  adventurous  one,  was  ripened  with 
the  experience  of  two  Continents,  and  his  temperament 
which  was  an  ardent  one,  reflected  the  traits  of  two  races 
Irish  by  birth,  he  was  American  in  his  sympathies  with 
the  people  of  the  New  World,  whose  acquaintance  he 
made  at  an  early  period,  among  whom  he  lived  for  years, 
\nd  whose  battles  he  helped  to  win.  He  was  probably 
more  familiar  with  the  Southern  and  Western  portion  of 
the  United  States  forty  years  ago  than  any  native-born 
American  of  that  time.  A  curious  interest  attaches  to  the 
life  of  Captain  Reid,  but  it  is  not  of  the  kind  that  casual 
biographers  dwell  upon.  If  he  had  written  it  himself  it 
would  have  charmed  thousands  of  readers,  who  can  now 
merely  imagine  what  it  might  have  been  from  the  glimpses 
of  it  which  they  obtain  in  his  writings.  It  was  not  passed 
in  the  fierce  light  of  publicity,  but  in  that  simple,  silent 
obscurity  which  is  the  lot  of  most  men,  and  is  their  hap- 
piness, if  they  only  knew  it. 

Briefly  related,  the  life  of  Captain  Reid  was  as  follows : 
He  was  born  in  1818,  in  the  north  of  Ireland,  the  son  of 
a  Presbyterian  clergyman,  who  was  a  type  of  the  class 
which  Goldsmith  has  described  so  freshly  in  the  "  Deserted 
Village,"  and  was  highly  thought  of  for  his  labors  among 
the  poor  of  his  neighborhood.  An  earnest,  reverent  man, 
to  whom  his  calling  was  indeed  a  sacred  one,  he  designed 
his  son  Mayne  for  the  ministry,  in  the  hope,  no  doubt, 
that  he  would  be  his  successor.  But  nature  had  some- 
thing to  say  about  that,  as  well  as  his  good  father.  He 
b«gan  to  study  for  the  ministry,  but  it  was  not  long  befor* 


te  was  drawn  in  another  direction.  Always  a  great  reader, 
his  favorite  books  were  descriptions  of  travel  in  foreign 
^ands,  particularly  those  which  dealt  with  the  scenery, 
the  people,  and  the  resources  of  America.  The  spell  which 
these  exercised  over  his  imagination,  joined  to  a  love  el 
adventure  which  was  inherent  in  his  temperament,  and 
inherited,  perhaps  with  his  race,  determined  his  career. 
At  the  age  of  twenty  he  closed  his  theological  tomes,  and 
girding  up  his  loins  with  a  stout  heart  he  sailed  from  the 
chores  of  the  Old  World  for  the  New.  Following  the 
spirit  in  his  feet  he  landed  at  New  Orleans,  which  waa 
probably  a  more  promising  field  for  a  young  man  of  his 
talents  than  any  Northern  city,  and  was  speedily  engaged 
in  business.  The  nature  of  this  business  is  not  stated, 
further  than  it  was  that  of  a  trader ;  but  whatever  it  was 
it  obliged  this  young  Irishman  to  make  long  journeys  into 
the  interior  of  the  country,  which  was  almost  a  terra  in- 
cognita. Sparsely  settled,  where  settled  at  all,  it  was  still 
clothed  in  primeval  verdure — here  in  the  endless  reach  of 
savannas,  there  in  the  depth  of  pathless  woods,  and  far 
away  to  the  North  and  the  West  in  those  monotonous 
ocean-like  levels  of  land  for  which  the  speech  of  England 
has  no  name — the  Prairies.  Its  population  was  nomadic, 
not  to  say  barbaric,  consisting  of  tribes  of  Indians  whose 
hunting  grounds  from  time  immemorial  the  region  was', 
hunters  and  trappers,  who  had  turned  their  backs  upoa 
civilization  for  the  free,  wild  life  of  nature  ;  men  of 
doubtful  or  dangerous  antecedents,  who  had  found  it  con- 
venient to  leave  their  country  for  their  country's  good  ; 
and  scattered  about  hardy  pioneer  communities  from  East- 
ern States,  advancing  waves  of  the  great  sea  of  emigration 
which  is  still  drawing  the  course  of  empire  westward. 
Travelling  in  a  country  like  this,  and  among  people  like 
these,  Mayne  Reid  passed  five  years  of  his  early  manhood. 
He  was  at  home  wherever  he  went,  and  never  more  so 
than  when  among  the  Indians  of  the  Red  River  territory, 
with  whom  he  spent  several  months,  learning  their  lan- 
guage, studying  their  customs,  and  enjoying  the  wild  and 
beautiful  scenery  of  their  camping  grounds.  Indian  for 
the  time,  he  lived  in  their  lodges,  rode  with  them,  hunted 
with  them,  and  night  after  night  sat  by  their  blazing 
•amp-fires  listening  to  the  warlike  stories  of  the  bravea 
and  the  quaint  legends  of  the  medicine  men.  There  was 
that  in  the  blood  of  Mayne  Reid  which  fitted  him  to  lead 
this  life  at  *>ua  time,  and  whether  he  knew  it  or  not  i| 
2 

I 


educated  Ms  genltts  as  no  other  life  eonld  have  done.  It 
familiarized  him  with  a  large  extent  of  country  in  the 
South  and  West ;  it  introduced  him  to  men  and  manners 
which  existed  nowhere  else ;  and  it  revealed  to  him  the 
cecrets  of  Indian  life  and  character. 

There  was  another  side,  however,  to  Mayne  Reid  than 
that  we  have  touched  upon,  and  this,  at  the  end  of  fivw 
years,  drew  him  back  to  the  average  life  of  his  kind.  We 
find  him  next  in  Philadelphia,  where  he  began  to  con- 
tribute stories  and  sketches  of  travel  to  the  newspapers- 
and  magazines.  Philadelphia  was  then  the  most  literate 
city  in  the  United  States,  the  one  in  which  a  clever  writer 
was  at  once  encouraged  and  rewarded.  Frank  and  warm- 
hearted, }ie  made  many  friends  there  among  journalists 
and  authors.  One  of  these  friends  was  Edgar  Allan  Poe, 
•whom  he  often  visited  at  his  home  in  Spring  Garden,  and 
concerning  whom  years  after,  when  he  was  dead,  he  wrote 
with  loving  tenderness. 

The  next  episode  in  the  career  of  Mayne  Reid  was  not 
what  one  would  expect  from  a  man  of  letters,  though  it 
Iras  just  what  might  have  been  expected  from  a  man  of 
his  temperament  and  antecedents.  It  grew  out  of  the 
time,  which  was  warlike,  and  it  drove  him  into  the  army 
with  which  the  United  States  speedily  crushed  the  forces 
of  the  sister  Republic — Mexico.  He  obtained  a  commis- 
sion, and  served  throughout  the  war  with  great  bravery 
and  distinction.  This  stormy  episode  ended  with  a  severe 
wound,  which  he  received  in  storming  the  heights  of  Cha- 
pultepec — a  terrible  battle  which  practically  ended  the 
war. 

A  second  episode  of  a  similar  character,  but  with  a  more 
fortunate  conclusion,  occurred  about  four  years  later.  It 
grew  out  of  another  war,  which,  happily  for  us,  was  not  on 
our  borders,  but  in  the  heart  of  Europe,  where  the  Hun- 
garian race  had  risen  in  insurrection  against  the  hated  power 
of  Austria.  Their  desperate  valor  in  the  face  of  tremen- 
dous odds  excited  the  sympathy  of  the  American  people, 
and  fired  the  heart  of  Captain  Mayne  Reid,  who  buckled 
on  his  sword  once  more,  and  sailed  from  New  York  with 
a  body  of  volunteers  to  aid  the  Hungarians  in  their  struggles 
for  independence.  They  were  too  late,  for  hardly  had 
they  reached  Paris  before  they  learned  that  all  was  over: 
trorgey  had  surrendered  at  Arad,  and  Hungary  was 
•rushed.  They  were  at  once  dismissed,  and  Captain 
betook  himself  to  London. 

3 


The  lifd  of  the  Mayne  Reid  In  whom  we  .arw  dost  in- 
terested— Mayne  Reid,  the  author — began  at  this  time, 
when  he  was  in  his  thirty-first  year,  and  ended  only  on 
the  day  of  his  death,  October  21,  1883.  It  covered  one- 
third  of  a  century,  and  was,  when  compared  with  that 
which  had  preceded  it,  uneventful,  if  not  devoid  of  in- 
cident. There  is  not  much  that  needs  be  told — not  much, 
indeed,  that  can  be  told — in  the  life  of  a  man  of  letters 
like  Captain  Mayne  Reid.  It  is  written  in  his  books. 
Mayne  Reid  was  one  of  the  best  known  authors  of  his 
time — differing  in  this  from  many  authors  who  are  popu- 
lar without  being  known — and  in  the  walk  of  fiction  which 
he  discovered  for  himself  he  is  an  acknowledged  mas* 
ter.  His  reputation  did  not  depend  upon  the  admiration 
of  the  millions  of  young  people  who  read  his  books,  but 
upon  the  judgment  of  mature  critics,  to  whom  his  delinea- 
tions of  adventurous  life  were  literature  of  no  common 
order.  His  reputation  as  a  story-teller  was  widely  recog- 
nized on  the  Continent,  where  he  was  accepted  as  an. 
authority  in  regard  to  the  customs  of  the  pioneers  and  tha 
guerilla  warfare  of  the  Indian  tribes,  and  was  warmly 
praised  for  his  freshness,  his  novelty,  and  his  hardy  origi- 
nality. The  people  of  France  and  Germany  delighted  in 
this  soldier-writer.  "  There  was  not  a  word  in  his  booka 
which  a  school-boy  could  not  safely  read  aloud  to  his 
mother  and  sisters."  So  says  a  late  English  critic,  to  which 
another  adds,  that  if  he  has  somewhat  gone  out  of  fashion 
of  late  years,  the  more's  the  pity  for  the  school-boy  of  the 
period.  What  Defoe  is  in  Robinson  Crusoe — realistic  idyl 
of  island  solitude — that,  in  his  romantic  stories  of  wilder- 
»tiss  life,  Is  his  great  scholar,  Captain  Mayne  Reid. 

U,  E. 
4 


CONTENTS. 


r»irrot  ttm 

I.  THE  ALBATROSS 1 

II.  SHIP  ON  FIRE         ........  I 

III.  THE  LORD'S  PRATES 8 

IV.  HUNGER.  —  DESPAIR       .......  12 

V.  FAITH.  — HOPE 15 

VI.  FLYING-FISH 18 

VII.  A  CHEERING  CLOUD 22 

VIH.  A  CANVAS  TANK 26 

IX.  A  PLEASANT  SHOWER-BATH      ......  29 

X.  THE  PILOT-FISH f..  82 

XL  A  LENTEN  DINNER     .       .       .       .  .       .       .88 

XII.  FLENSING  A  SHARK 42 

XIII.  THE  SUCKING-FISH ,       .  46 

XIV.  A  SAIL  OF  SHARK-FLESH 49 

XV.  THE  MYSTERIOUS  VOICE 62 

XVI.  OTHER  WAIFS  *• 66 

XVII.  How  SNOWBALL  ESCAPED  FROM  THE  SLAYER  .  .  60 

XVIII.  SNOWBALL  AMID  THE  DRIFT 64 

XIX.  SNOWBALL  AT  SEA  ON  A  HENCOOP 68 

XX.  THE  FLASH  OF  LIGHTNING  ....'..  71 

XXI.  To  THE  OARS 76 

XXII.  SHIP  AHOY-! ,76 

XXIII.  THE  RAFTS  EN  RAPPORT  .       .       .       .      -»       ,       .  88 

XXIV.  RECONSTRUCTING  THE  RAFT         ....  bt> 
XXV.  THE  CATAMARAN .  89 

XXVI.  LITTLE  WILLIAM  AND  LILLT  LALKB   ...  92 

XXVII.  Too  LATB!  ........  M 

XXVIII.  u  OVERBOARD]"     ........  99 


IV 


CONTENTS. 


XXIX.  SAVED! 101 

XXX.  THE  ZYGANA .  10o 

XXXI.  FACE  TO  FACE 11C 

XXXII.  A  RING  PERFORMANCE     ....               .  113 

XXXIII.  THE  CHASE  OF  THE  CATAMARAN        .       .       .       .117 

XXXIV.  THB  SAIL  our  OF  SIGHT 121 

XXXV.  WAITING  FOR  DEATH 124 

XXXVI.  A  CHEST  AT  SEA 127 

XXXVII.  AN  IMPROVISED  LIFE-PRESERVER       ....  129 

XXXVIII.  CONJECTURES  ABOUT  THE  CATAMARAN  .        .       .  181 

XXXIX.  DOWN  THE  WIND 136 

XL.  LAUNCHING  THE  LIFE-FRESH  RVEB  ....  188 

XLI.  A  LOOK-OUT  FROM  ALOFT 141 

XLII.  ONCE  MORE  ABOARD 146 

XLIII.  REFITTING  THE  RAFT 149 

XLIV.  THE  ALBACORES 162 

XLV.  THE  SWORD-FISH 166 

XL VL  THE  SWORDSMAN  OF  THE  SEA        ....  169 

XLVII.  ANGLING  FOR  ALBAOORE 163 

XLVIII.  THE  FRIGATE-BIRD 170 

XLIX.  BETWEEN  TWO  TYRANTS 176 

L.  SNOWBALL  MAKING  A  SOMERSAULT        .       .       .  179 

LI.  A  THRUST  THROUGH  AND  THROUGH   ....  182 

LIL  AN  AWKWARD  GRIP 186 

Lffi.  GLOOMY  PROSPECTS 190 

LIV.  THANKSGIVING 192 

LV.  SNOWBALL  SEES  LAND         ......  197 

LVL  Is  IT  LAND? 200 

LVII.  THK  KING  OF  THE  CANNIBAL  ISLANDS      .        .       .206 

LVIII.  VERY  LIKE  A  WHALE 209 

LIX.  ABOARD  THE  BODY  OF  A  WHALK      ....  213 

LX.  A  CURIOUS  CUISINE  .       .       .       »       .       .       .  214 

LXI.  AN  ASSEMBLY  OF  SHARKS 219 

LXII.  A  DANGEROUS  EQUILIBRIUM     .....  222 

LXIII.  A  HARPOON  WELL  HANDLED               .       .       .  226 

LXIV.  THE  THICK  WATERS 230 

LXV.  A  WHALE  ON  FIRB!     ....               .  234 

LXVL  THE  Bio  RAFT           ....  JF 


CONTENTS.  f 

LXVII.  A  CREW  OF  CANNIBALS 248 

LXVIII.  THK  LOTTERY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH      ...  248 

LXIX.  A  CHALLENGE  DECLINED  .       .       .       .       .       .264 

LXX.  AN  UNEXPECTED  TERMINATION      ....  268 

LXXI.  LE  GHOS  UPON  TRIAL  .......  261 

LXXII.  A  DUEL  TO  THE  DEATH 284 

LXXIII.  HATE  AGAINST  HATE 267 

LXXIV.  ALIGHT!  . 272 

LXXV.  TOWARDS  THE  BEACON!     ....               .  276 

LXXVI.  A  DOUBLE  DARKNESS 279 

LXXVII.  A  WHISPERED  CONSPIRACY 282 

LXXVIII.  A  FOUL  DEED  DONE  IN  A  FOG      ....  286 

LXXIX.  DOUSING  THE  GLIM *.  289 

LXXX.  SUSPICIONS  SOUNDS  .......  292 

LXXXI.  UNPLEASANT  CONJECTURES 296 

LXXXII.  AN  INFORMAL  INQUEST 800 

LXXXIII.  SLIPPING  THE  CABLE 808 

LXXXIV.  THE  CHASE 806 

LXXXV.  NEARER  AND  NEARER 809* 

LXXXVI.  CUT  IN  TWAIN 818 

LXXXVII.  AN  UNLOOKED-FOR  DELIVERANCE     ....  815 

LXXX VIII.  A  THREATENED  STORM 818 

LXXXIX.  A  STARTLING  SHRIEK 823 

XC.  A  MADMAN  IN  MID-OCEAN 827 

XCL  THE  INSANE  SWIMMER 831 

XCII.  BOARDING  THE  BOAT 884 

XCIII.  THE  CATAMARAN  ABANDONED 837 

XCIV.  A  "SCHOOL"  OF  SPERM- WHA;JS         ...  842 

XCV.  WORSE  OFF  THAN  EVER 846 

XCVI.  THE  DARKEST  HOUR 849 

XCVII.  A  CHEERING  CUP       ." 86S 

XCVIII.  A  PHANTOM  SHIP  OR  A  SHIP  ON  FIRE?      .        .  868 

XCIX.  A  WHALER  "  TRYING  Our " 868 

C.  THE  EHD  OF  TFB  "  YARN  "    .       .       .       .  M3 


THE    OCEAN  WAIFS. 


CHAPTER    I. 

THE     A  LB  ATROSS. 

THE  u  vulture  of  the  sea,"  borne  upon  broad  wing,  and 
wandering  over  the  wide  Atlantic,  suddenly  suspends 
his  flight  to  look  down  upon  an  object  that  has  attracted  his 
attention. 

It  is  a  raft,  with  a  disc  not  much  larger  than  a  dining-ta- 
ble,  constructed  out  of  two  small  spars  of  a  ship,  —  the  dol- 
phin-striker and  spritsail  yard,  —  with  two  broad  planks  and 
some  narrower  ones  lashed  crosswise,  and  over  all  two  or 
three  pieces  of  sail-cloth  carelessly  spread. 

Slight  as  is  the  structure,  it  is  occupied  by  two  individuals, 
—  a  man  and  a  boy.  The  latter  is  lying  along  the  folds  01 
the  sailcloth,  apparently  asleep.  The  man  stands  erect,  with 
his  hand  to  hia  forehead,  shading  the  sun  from  his  eyes,  and 
scanning  the  surface  of  the  sea  with  inquiring  glances. 

At  his  feet,  lying  among  the  creases  of  the  canvas,  are  a 
handspike,  a  pair  of  boat  oars,  and  an  axe.  Nothing  more  ia 
perceptible  ot  the  raft,  even  to  the  keen  eye  of  the  albatross. 

The  bird  continues  its  flight  towards  the  west  Ten  milea 
farther  on  it  once  more  poises  itself  on  soaring  wing,  and 
directs  its  glance  downward. 

Another  raft  is  seen  motionless  upon  the  calm  surface  of 
the  sea,  but  differing  from  the  former  in  almost  everything 


2  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

but  the  name.  It  is  nearly  ten  times  as  large ;  constructed 
out  of  the  masts,  yards,  hatches,  portions  of  the  bulwarks, 
and  other  timbers  of  a  ship ;  and  rendered  buoyant  by  a 
number  of  empty  water-casks  lashed  along  its  edges.  A 
square  of  canvas  spread  between  two  extemporized  masts, 
a  couple  of  casks,  an  empty  biscuit-box,  some  oars,  hand* 
spikes,  and  other  maritime  implements,  lie  upon  the  raft ; 
and  around  these  are  more  than  thirty  men,  seated,  standing, 
lying,  —  in  short,  in  almost  every  attitude. 

Some  are  motionless,  as  if  asleep ;  but  there  is  that  in 
their  prostrate  postures,  and  in  the  wild  expression  of  their 
features,  that  betokens  rather  the  sleep  of  intoxication.  Oth- 
ers, by  their  gestures  and  loud,  riotous  talk,  exhibit  still  surer 
signs  of  drunkenness  ;  and  the  tin  cup,  reeking  with  rum,  is 
constantly  passing  from  hand  to  hand.  A  few,  apparently 
sober,  but  haggard  and  hungry-like,  sit  or  stand  erect  upon 
the  raft,  casting  occasional  glances  over  the  wide  expanse, 
with  but  slight  show  of  hope,  fast  changing  to  despair. 

Well  may  the  sea-vulture  linger  over  this  group,  and  con- 
template their  movements  with  expectant  eye.  The  instincts 
of  the  bird  tell  him,  that  erelong  he  may  look  forward  to  a 
bountiful  banquet ! 

Ten  miles  farther  to  the  west,  though  unseen  to  those 
upon  the  raft,  the  far-piercing  gaze  of  the  albatross  detects 
another  unusual  object  upon  the  surface  of  the  sea.  At  this 
distance  it  appears  only  a  speck  not  larger  than  the  bird  it- 
self, though  in  reality  it  is  a  small  boat,  —  a  ship's  gig,  —  in 
which  six  men  are  seated.  There  has  been  no  attempt  to 
hoist  a  sail ;  there  is  none  in  the  gig.  There  are  oars,  but 
no  one  is  using  them.  They  have  been  dropped  in  despair ; 
and  the  boat  lies  becalmed  just  as  the  two  rafts.  Like  them, 
it  appears  to  be  adrift  jpon  the  ocean. 

Could  the  albatross  exert  a  reasoning  faculty  it  would 
know  that  these  various  objects  indicated  a  wreck.  Some 
vessel  has  either  foundered  and  gone  to  the  bottom,  or  has 
caught  fire  and  perished  in  the  flames- 


SHIP  ON  FIRE.  3 

Tea  miles  to  the  eastward  of  the  lesser  raft  might  be  dis- 
covered truer  traces  of  the  lost  ship.  There  might  be  seen 
the  debris  of  charred  timbers,  telling  that  she  has  succumbed, 
not.  to  the  storm,  but  to  fire ;  and  the  fragments,  scattered 
over  the  circumference  of  a  mile,  disclose  further  that  the 
fire  ended  abruptly  in  some  terrible  explosion. 

Upon  the  stern  of  the  gig  still  afloat  may  be  read  the 
name  Pandora.  The  same  word  may  be  seen  painted  on  the 
water-casks  buoying  up  the  big  raft ;  and  on  the  two  planks 
forming  the  transverse  pieces  of  the  lesser  one  appears  Pan- 
dora in  still  larger  letters :  for  these  were  the  boards  that 
exhibited  the  name  of  the  ship  on  each  side  of  her  bowsprit, 
and  which  had  been  torn  off"  to  •construct  the  little  raft  by 
those  who  now  occupy  it. 

Beyond  doubt  the  lost  ship  was  the  Pandora. 


CHAPTER   II. 

SHIP    ON    FIRE. 

THE  story  of  the  Pandora  has  been  told  in  all  its  terri- 
ble details.  A  slave-ship,  fitted  out  in  England,  and 
mailing  from  an  English  port,  —  alas !  not  the  only  one  by 
scores,  —  manned  by  a  crew  of  ruffians,  scarce  two  of  then? 
owning  to  the  same  nationality.  Such  was  the  bark 
Pandora. 

Her  latest  and  last  voyage  was  to  the  slave  coast,  in  the 
Gulf  of  Guinea.  There,  having  shipped  five  hundred 
wretched  beings  with  black  skins,  —  "  bales "  as  they  are 
facetiously  termed  by  the  trader  in  human  flesh,  —  she  had 
started  to  carry  her  cargo  to  that  infamous  market,  —  eve* 
open  in  those  days  to  such  a  commodity,  —  the  barracoons  of 
Brazil. 


4  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

In  mid-ocean  she  had  caught  fire,  —  a  fire  that  could  not 
be  extinguished.  In  the  hurry  and  confusion  of  launching 
the  boats  the  pinnace  proved  to  be  useless ;  and  the  long- 
boat, stove  in  by  the  falling  of  a  cask,  sank  to  the  bottom  of 
the  sea.  Only  the  gig  was  fcund  available  ;  and  this,  seized 
upon  by  the  captain,  the  mate,  and  four  others,  was  rowed 
off  clandestinely  in  the  darkness. 

The  rest  of  the  crew,  over  thirty  in  number,  succeeded  in 
constructing  a  raft ;  and  but  a  few  seconds  after  they  had 
pushed  off  from  the  sides  of  the  ship,  a  barrel  of  gunpowder 
ignited  by  the  flames,  completed  the  catastrophe. 

But  what  became  of  the  cargo  *  Ah !  that  is  indeed  a 
tale  of  horror. 

Up  to  the  last  moment  those  unfortunate  beings  had  been 
kept  under  hatches,  under  a  grating  that  had  been  fastened 
down  with  battens.  They  would  have  been  left  in  that  situ- 
ation to  be  stifled  in  their  confinement  by  the  suffocating 
smoke,  or  burnt  alive  amid  the  blazing  timbers,  but  for  one 
merciful  heart  among  those  who  were  leaving  the  ship.  An 
axe  uplifted  by  the  arm  of  a  brave  youth  —  a  mere  boy  — 
struck  off  the  confining  elects,  and  gave  the  sable  sufferers 
access  to  the  open  air. 

Alas  !  it  was  scarce  a  respite  to  these  wretched  creatures, 
—  only  a  choice  between  two  modes  of  death.  They  escaped 
from  the  red  flames  but  to  sink  into  the  dismal  depths  of  the 
ocean,  —  hundreds  meeting  with  a  fate  still  more  horrible  : 
for  there  were  not  less  than  that  number,  and  all  became 
the  prey  of  those  hideous  sea-monsters,  the  sharks. 

Of  all  that  band  of  involuntary  emigrants,  in  ten  minutes 
after  the  blowing  up  of  the  bark,  there  was  not  one  above 
the  surface  of  the  sea  !  Those  of  them  that  could  not  swim 
had  sunk  to  the  bottom,  while  a  worse  fate  had  befallen  those 
that  could,  —  to  fill  the  maws  of  the  ravenous  monsters  that 
crowded  the  sea  around  them  ! 

At  the  period  when  our  tale  commences,  several  days  had 
*-«-- 


SHIP   ON  FIRE.  ft 

rocceeded  this  tragical  event ;  and  the  groups  we  have  Je- 
scribed,  aligned  upon  a  parallel  of  latitude,  and  separated 
one  from  another  by  a  distance  of  some  ten  or  a  dozen  miles, 
will  be  easily  recognized. 

The  little  boat  lying  farthest  west  was  the  gig  of  the  Pan- 
dora, containing  her  brutal  captain,  his  equally  brutal  mate, 
the  carpenter,  and  three  others  of  the  crew,  that  had  been 
admitted  as  partners  in  the  surreptitious  abstraction.  Under 
cover  of  the  darkness  they  had  made  their  departure ;  bu* 
long  before  rowing  out  of  gun-shot  they  had  heard  the  wild 
denunciations  and  threats  hurled  after  them  by  their  betrayed 
associates. 

The  ruffian  crew  occupied  the  greater  raft ;  but  who  were 
the  two  individuals  who  had  intrusted  themselves  to  that 
frail  embarkation,  —  seemingly  so  slight  that  a  single  breath 
of  wind  would  scatter  it  into  fragments,  and  send  its  occu- 
pants to  the  bottom  of  the  sea  ?  Such  in  reality  would  have 
been  their  fate,  had  a  storm  sprung  up  at  that  moment ;  but 
fortunately  for  them  the  sea  was  smooth  and  calm,  —  as  it 
had  been  ever  since  the  destruction  of  the  ship. 

But  why  were  they  thus  separated  from  the  others  of  the 
crew :  for  both  man  and  b'oy  had  belonged  to  the  forecastle 
of  the  Pandora  ? 

The  circumstance  requires  explanation,  and  it  shall  be 
briefly  given.  The  man  was  Ben  Brace,  —  the  bravest 
and  best  sailor  on  board  the  slave  bark,  and  one  who  would 
not  have  shipped  in  such  a  craft  but  for  wrongs  he  had 
suffered  while  in  the  service  of  his  country,  and  that  had 
inducted  him  into  a  sort  of  reckless  disposition,  of  which, 
however,  he  had  long  since  repented. 

The  boy  had  also  been  the  victim  of  a  similar  disposition. 
Longing  to  see  foreign  lands,  he  had  run  away  to  sea  ;  and 
by  an  unlucky  accident,  through  sheer  ignorance  of  her  char- 
acter, had  chosen  the  Pandora  in  which  to  make  his  initia- 
tory voyage.  From  the  cruel  treatment  he  had  been  sub- 


6  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

jectcd  io  on  board  the  bark,  he  had  reason  to  see  his  folly 
Irksome  had  been  his  existence  from  the  moment  he  set  foot 
on  the  deck  of  the  Pandora  ;  and  indeed  it  would  have  beei 
scarce  endurable  but  for  the  friendship  of  the  brave  sailor 
Brace,  who,  after  a  time,  had  taken  him  under  his  especial 
protection.  Neither  of  them  had  any  feelings  in  common 
with  the  crew  with  whom  they  had  become  associated ;  and 
it  was  their  intention  to  escape  from  such  vile  companionship 
as  soon  as  an  opportunity  should  offer. 

The  destruction  of  the  bark  would  not  have  given  that 
opportunity.  On  the  contrary,  it  rendered  it  all  the  more 
necessary  to  remain  with  the  others,  and  share  the  chancea 
of  safety  offered  by  the  great  raft.  Slight  as  these  might 
be,  they  were  still  better  than  those  that  might  await  them, 
exposed  on  such  a  frail  fabric  as  that  they  now  occupied. 
It  is  true,  that  upon  this  they  had  left  the  burning  ves- 
sel separate  from  the  others  ;  but  immediately  after  they 
had  rowed  up  alongside  the  larger  structure,  and  made  fast 
to  it 

In  this  companionship  they  had  continued  for  several 
days  and  nights,  borne  backward  and  forward  by  the  vary- 
ing breezes  ;  resting  by  day  on  the  calm  surface  of  the 
ocean  ;  and  sharing  the  fate  of  the  rest  of  the  castaway 
crew. 

What  had  led  to  their  relinquishing  the  companionship  ? 
Why  was  Ben  Brace  and  his  protege  separated  from  the 
others  and  once  more  alone  upon  their  little  raft  ? 

The  cause  of  that  separation  must  be  declared,  though 
one  almost  shudders  to  think  of  it.  It  was  to  save  the  boy 
from  being  eaten  that  Ben  Brace  had  carried  him  away 
from  his  former  associates  ;  and  it  was  only  by  a  cunning 
stratagem,  and  at  the  risk  of  his  own  life,  that  the  brave 
sailor  had  succeeded  in  preventing  this  horrid  banquet  from 
being  made  ! 

The  castaway  crew  had  exhausted  the  slender  stock  of 


SHIP   ON  FIRE.  7 

provisions  reaeived  from  the  wreck.  They  were  reduced  to 
that  state  of  hunger  which  no  longer  revolts  at  the  filthiest 
of  food  ;  and  without  even  resorting  to  the  customary 
method  adopted  in  such  terrible  crises,  they  unanimousr) 
resolved  upon  the  death  of  the  boy,  —  Ben  Brace  alone 
raising  a  voice  of  dissent ! 

But  this  voice  was  not  heeded.  It  was  decided  that  the 
lad  should  die  :  and  all  that  his  protector  was  able  to  obtain 
from  the  fiendish  crew,  was  the  promise  of  a  respite  for 
him  till  the  following  morning. 

Brace  had  his  object  in  procuring  this  delay.  During 
the  night,  the  united  rafts  made  way  under  a  fresh  breeze  ; 
and  while  all  was  wrapped  in  darkness,  he  cut  the  ropes 
which  fastened  the  lesser  one  to  the  greater,  allowing  the 
former  to  fall  astern.  As  it  was  occupied  only  by  him  and 
his  protege,  they  were  thus  separated  from  their  dangerous 
associates  ;  and  when  far  enough  off  to  run  no  risk  of 
being  heard,  they  used  their  oars  to  increase  the  distance. 

All  night  long  did  they  continue  to  row  against  the  wind  ; 
and  as  morning  broke  upon  them,  they  came  to  a  rest  upon 
the  calm  sea,  unseen  by  their  late  comrades,  and  with  ten 
miles  separating  the  two  rafts  from  each  other. 

It  was  the  fatigue  of  that  long  spell  of  pulling  —  with 
many  a  watchful  and  weary  hour  preceding  it  —  that  had 
caused  the  boy  to  sink  down  upon  the  folded  canvas,  and 
almost  on  the  instant  fall  asleep  ;  and  it  was  the  appre- 
hension of  being  followed  that  was  causing  Ben  Brace  to 
stand  shading  his  eyes  from  the  sun,  and  scan  with  tmeasj 
glance*  the  glittering  surface  of  the  sea. 


8  .  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

CHAPTER    III. 

THE    LORD'S    PBAYER 

AFTER  carefully  scrutinizing  the  smooth  water  towardi 
every  point  of  the  compass,  —  but  more  especially  to- 
wards the  west,  —  the  sailor  ceased  from  his  reconnoissance, 
and  turned  his  eyes  upon  his  youthful  companion,  still 
soundly  slumbering. 

"  Poor  lad  ! "  muttered  he  to  himself ;  "  he  be  quite 
knocked  up.  No  wonder,  after  such  a  week  as  we  've  had 
o't  And  to  think  he  war  so  near  bein'  killed  and  ate  by 
them  crew  o'  ruffians.  I  'm  blowed  if  that  was  n't  enough 
to  scare  the  strength  out  o'  him  !  Well,  I  dare  say  he 's 
escaped  from  that  fate ;  but  as  soon  as  he  has  got  a  little 
more  rest,  we  must  take  a  fresh  spell  at  the  oars.  It  'ud 
never  do  to  drift  back  to  them.  If  we  do,  it  an't  only  him 
they'll  want  to  eat,  but  me  too,  after  what's  happened. 
Blowed  if  they  would  n't." 

The  sailor  paused  a  moment,  as  if  reflecting  upon  the 
probabilities  of  their  being  pursued. 

"  Sartin ! "  he  continued,  "  they  could  never  fetch  that 
catamaran  against  the  wind ;  but  now  that  it 's  turned  dead 
calm,  they  might  clap  on  wi'  their  oars,  in  the  hope  of  over- 
takin'  us.  There 's  so  many  of  them  to  pull,  and  they  've 
got  oars  in  plenty,  they  might  overhaul  us  yet" 

"  O  Ben  I  dear  Ben  !  save  me,  —  save  me  from  the 
wicked  men  ! " 

This  came  from  the  lips  of  the  lad,  evidently  muttered  in 
his  sleep. 

"  Dash  my  buttons,  if  he  an't  dreaming  ! "  said  the 
sailor,  turning  his  eyes  upon  the  boy,  and  watching  tho 
movements  of  his  lips.  "  He  be  talkin'  in  his  sleep.  He 
thinks  they  're  comin'  %t  him  just  as  they  did  last  night  ou 


THE  LORD'S  PRAYER.  9 

the  raft  !  Maybe  I  ought  to  rouse  him  up.  If  he  be  a 
dreamin'  that  way  he  '11  be  better  awake.  It 's  a  pity,  too, 
for  he  an't  had  enough  sleep." 

<l  Oh  !  they  will  kill  me  and  eat  me.     Oh,  oh  ! " 

"  No,  they  won't  do  ney  ther,  —  blow  'd  if  they  do.  Will'm, 
little  Will'm  !  rouse  yourself,  my  lad." 

And  as  he  said  this  he  bent  down  and  gave  the  sleeper  a 
shake. 

"  0  Ben  !  is  it  you  ?  Where  are  they,  —  those  mon 
sters?" 

"Miles  away,  my  boy.  You  be  only  a  dreamin'  about 
'em.  That 's  why  I  've  shook  you  up." 

"  I  'm  glad  you  have  waked  me.  Oh  !  it  was  a  frightful 
dream  !  I  thought  they  had  done  it,  Ben." 

"Done  what,  Will'm?" 

"  What  they  were  going  to  do." 

"  Dash  it,  no,  lad  !  they  an't  ate  you  yet ;  nor  won't,  till 
they  've  first  put  an  end  o'  me,  —  that  I  promise  ye." 

"  Dear  Ben,"  cried  the  boy,  "  you  are  so  good,  —  you  've 
risked  your  life  to  save  mine.  Oh !  how  can  I  ever  show 
you  how  much  I  am  sensible  of  your  goodness  ? " 

"  Don't  talk  o'  that,  little  Will'm.  Ah  !  lad,  I  fear  it 
an't  much  use  to  eyther  o'  us.  But  if  we  must  die,  any- 
thing before  a  death  like  that.  I  'd  rather  far  that  the 
sharks  should  get  us  than  to  be  eat  up  by  one's  own  sort.  — 
Ugh  !  it  be  horrid  to  think  o't.  But  come,  lad,  don't  let 
ua  despair.  For  all  so  black  as  things  look,  let  us  put  our 
trust  in  Providence.  We  don't  know  but  that  His  eye 
may  be  on  us  at  this  minute.  I  wish  I  knew  how  to  pray, 
l>ut  I  never  was  taught  that  ere.  Can  you  pray,  little  Wil- 
l'm?" 

"I  can  repeat  the  Lord's  Prayer.  Would  that  do, 
Ben?" 

"  Sartain  it  would.     It  be  the  best  kind  o'  prayer,  I  've 
heerd  say.     Get  on  you*  knees,  lad,  and  do  it.     1 11  kneel 
I* 


10  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

myself,  and  join  with  ye  in  the  spirit  o'  the  thiug,  tho'  T  'in 
shamed  to  say  I  disremember  most  o'  the  words." 

The  boy,  thus  solicited,  at  once  raised  himself  into  a  kneel 
ing  position,  and  commenced  repeating  the  sublimo  prayer 
of  the  Christian.  The  rough  sailor  knelt  alongside  of  him, 
and  with  hands  crossed  over  his  breast  in  a  supplicating 
attitude,  listened  attentively,  now  and  then  joining  in  the 
words  of  the  prayer,  whenever  some  phrase  recurred  to  his 
remembrance. 

When  it  was  over,  and  the  "  Amen  "  had  been  solemnly 
pronounced  by  the  voices  of  both,  the  sailor  seemed  to  have 
become  inspired  with  a  fresh  hope  ;  and,  once  more  grasping 
an  oar,  he  desired  his  companion  to  do  the  same. 

"  We  must  get  a  little  farther  to  east'ard,"  said  he,  "  so 
as  to  make  sure  o'  bein'  out  o'  their  way.  If  we  only  pull 
a  couple  of  hours  afore  the  sun  gets  hot,  I  think  we  '11  be  in 
no  danger  o'  meetin'  them  any  more.  So  let 's  set  to,  little 
Will'm  !  Another  spell,  and  then  you  can  rest  as  long's 
you  have  a  mind  to." 

The  sailor  seated  himself  close  to  the  edge  of  the  raft, 
and  dropped  his  oar-blade  in  the  water,  using  it  after  the 
fashion  of  a  oanoe-paddle.  "  Little  Will'm,"  taking  his 
place  on  the  opposite  side,  imitated  the  action  ;  and  the 
craft  commenced  moving  onward  over  the  calm  surface  of 
the  sea. 

The  boy,  though  only  sixteen,  was  skilled  in  the  use  of 
an  oar,  and  could  handle  it  in  whatever  fashion.  He  had 
learnt  the  art  long  before  he  had  thought  of  going  to  sea ; 
and  it  new  stood  him  in  good  stead.  Moreover,  he  was 
strong  for  his  age,  and  therefore  his  stroke  was  sufficient  to 
match  that  of  the  sailor,  given  more  gently  for  the  purpose. 

Propelled  by  the  two  oar.s,  the  raft  made  way  with  con- 
siderable rapidity,  —  not  as  a  boat  would  have  done,  but  still 
at  the  rate  of  two  or  three  knots  to  the  hour. 

They  had  not  been  rowing  long,  however,  when  a  gentle 


THE  LORD'S  PRAYER.  11 

sprung  up  from  the  west,  which  aided  their  progress 
In  the  direction  in  which  they  wished  to  go.  One  would 
fiave  thought  that  this  was  just  what  they  should  have 
desired.  On  the  contrary,  the  sailor  appeared  uneasy  on 
perceiving  that  the  breeze  blew  from  the  west.  Had  it 
been  from  any  other  point  he  would  have  cared  little 
about  it. 

"  I  don't  like  it  a  bit,"  said  he,  speaking  across  the  raft  to 
nis  companion.  "  It  helps  us  to  get  east'ard,  that 's  true  ; 
imt  it  '11  help  them  as  well ;  and  with  that  broad  spread  o' 
eanvas  they've  rigged  up,  they  might  come  down  on  ITS 
liaster  than  we  can  row." 

"  Could  we  not  rig  a  sail  too  ?  "  inquired  the  boy.  "Don't 
fou  think  we  might,  Ben  ?  " 

"  Just  the  thing  I  war  thinkin'  o',  lad ;  I  dare  say  we 
tan.  Let  me  see ;  we  've  got  that  old  tarpaulin  and  the 
lying  jib-sail  under  us.  The  tarpaulin  itself  will  be  big 
inough.  How  about  ropes  ?  Ah  !  there 's  the  sheets  of  the 
jib  still  stickin'  to  the  sail ;  and  then  there 's  the  handspike 
ind  our  two  oars.  The  oars  '11  do  without  the  handspike. 
Let 's  set  'em  up  then,  and  rig  the  tarpaulin  between  'em." 

As  the  sailor  spoke,  he  had  risen  to  his  feet ;  and  after  par- 
lially  drawing  the  canvas  off  from  the  planks  and  spare,  he 
won  accomplished  the  task  of  setting  the  two  oars  upright 
upon  the  raft.  This  done,  the  tarpaulin  was  spread  between 
them,  and  wh^n  lashed  so  as  to  lie  taut  from  one  to  the 
other,  presented  a  surface  of  several  square  yards  to  the 
breeze,  —  quite  as  much  sail  as  the  craft  was  capable  of 
carrying. 

It  only  remained  for  them  to  look  to  the  steering  of  the 
raft,  so  as  to  keep  it  head  on  before  the  wind ;  and  this  could 
be  managed  by  means  of  the  handspike,  used  as  a  rudder  or 
steering  oar. 

Laying  hold  of  this,  and  placing  himself  abaft  of  the 
spread  tarpaulin,  Ben  had  the  satisfaction  of  feeing  that  the 


12  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

sail  acted  admirably  ;  and  as  soon  as  its  influence  was  fairty 
felt,  the  raft  surged  on  through  the  water  at  a  rate  of  not  less 
than  five  knots  to  the  hour. 

It  was  not  likely  that  the  large  raft  that  carried  the 
dreaded  crew  of  would-be  cannibals  was  going  any  faster ; 
and  therefore,  whatever  distance  they  might  be  off,  there 
would  be  no  great  danger  of  their  getting  any  nearer. 

This  confidence  being  firmly  established,  the  sailor  no 
longer  gave  a  thought  to  the  peril  from  which  he  and  his 
youthful  comrade  had  escaped.  For  all  that,  the  prospect 
that  lay  before  them  was  too  terrible  to  permit  their  ex- 
changing a  word,  —  either  of  comfort  or  congratulation,  — 
and  for  a  long  time  they  sat  in  a  sort  of  desponding  silence, 
which  was  broken  only  by  the  rippling  surge  of  the  waters 
as  they  swept  in  pearly  froth  along  the  sides  of  the  raft. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

HUNGER.  —  DESPAIR. 

THE  breezo  proved  only  what  sailors  call  a  catspaw,  — 
rising  no  higher  than  just  to  cause  a  ripple  on  the 
water,  and  lasting  only  about  an  hour.  When  it  was  over, 
the  sea  again  fell  into  a  dead  calm  ;  its  surface  assuming  the 
smoothness  of  a  mirror. 

In  the  midst  of  this  the  raft  lay  motionless,  and  the  ex- 
temporized sail  was  of  no  use  for  propelling  it.  It  served  a 
purpose,  however,  in  screening  off  the  rays  of  the  sun, 
which,  though  not  many  degrees  above  the  horizon,  was 
beginning  to  make  itself  felt  in  all  its  tropical  fervor. 

Ben  no  longer  required  his  companion  to  take  a  hand  at 
the  oar.  Not  but  that  their  danger  of  being  overtaken  was 


HUNGER.  —  DESPAIR.  18 

AS  gieat  as  ever ;  for  although  they  had  made  easterly  som% 
five  or  six  knots,  it  was  but  natural  to  conclude  that  th'j 
great  raft  had  been  doing  the  same ;  and  therefore  the  dis 
tance  between  the  two  would  be  about  as  before. 

But  whether  it  was  that  his  energy  had  become  prostrated 
by  fatigue  and  the  hopelessness  of  their  situation,  or  whether 
upon  further  reflection  he  felt  less  fear  of  their  being  pursued, 
certain  it  is  he  no  longer  showed  uneasiness  about  making 
way  over  the  water ;  and  after  once  more  rising  to  his  feet 
and  making  a  fresh  examination  of  the  horizon,  he  stretched 
himself  along  the  raft  in  the  shade  of  the  tarpaulin. 

The  boy,  at  his  request,  had  already  placed  himself  in  a 
similar  position,  and  was  again  buried  in  slumber. 

"  I  'm  glad  to  see  he  can  sleep,"  said  Brace  to  himself,  as 
he  lay  down  alongside.  "  He  must  be  sufferin'  from  hunger 
as  bad  as  I  am  myself,  and  as  long  as  he 's  asleep  he  won't 
feel  it.  May  be,  if  one  could  keep  asleep  they  'd  hold  out 
longer,  though  I  don't  know  'bout  that  bein'  so.  I  've  often 
ate  a  hearty  supper,  and  woke  up  in  the  mornin'  as  hungry 
as  if  I  'd  gone  to  my  bunk  without  a  bite.  Well,  it  an't  no 
use  o'  me  tryin'  to  sleep  as  I  feel  now,  blow'd  if  it  is !  My 
belly  calls  out  loud  enough  to  keep  old  Morphis  himself  from 
nappin',  and  there  an't  a  morsel  o'  anything.  More  than 
forty  hours  ha'e  passed  since  I  ate  that  last  quarter  biscuit. 
I  can  think  o'  nothing  but  our  shoes,  and  they  be  so  soaked 
wi'  the  sea-water,  I  suppose  they  '11  do  more  harm  than  good. 
They  '11  be  sure  to  make  the  thirst  a  deal  worse  than  it  is, 
though  the  Lord  knows  it  be  bad  enough  a'ready.  Merciful 
Father !  —  nothin'  to  eat !  —  nothin'  to  drink !  O  God,  hear 
the  prayer  little  Will'm  ha'  just  spoken  and  I  ha'  repeated, 
though  I've  been  too  wicked  to  expect  bein'  heard,  'gfe  ut 
this  day  our  daily  bread'/  Ah !  another  day  or  two  without 
it,  an'  we  shall  both  be  asleep  forever ! " 

The  soliloquy  of  the  despairing  sailor  ended  in  a  groan, 
that  awoke  his  young  comrade  from  a  slumber  that  was  al 
best  only^  transient  and  troubled. 


»4  THE   OCEAN  WAIFS. 

"  What  is  it,  Ben  ? "  he  asked,  raising  himself  on  hid 
elbow,  and  looking  inquiringly  in  the  face  of  his  protector. 

"  Nothing  partikler,  my  lad,"  answered  the  sailor,  who  did 
uot  wish  to  terrify  his  companion  with  the  dark  thoughts 
which  were  troubling  himself. 

u  I  heard  you  groaning,  —  did  I  not  ?  I  was  afraid  you 
had  seen  them  coming  after  us." 

"  No  fear  o'  that,  —  not  a  bit.  They  're  a  long  way  off, 
and  in  this  calm  sea  they  won't  be  inclined  to  stir,  —  not  as 
long  as  the  rum-cask  holds  out,  I  warrant ;  and  when  that 's 
empty,  they  '11  not  feel  much  like  movin'  anywhere.  'T  an't 
for  them  we  need  have  any  fear  now." 

"  0  Ben !  I  'm  so  hungry ;  I  could  eat  anything." 

"  I  know  it,  my  poor  lad  ;  so  could  I." 

"  True !  indeed  you  must  be  even  hungrier  than  I,  for  you 
gave  me  more  than  my  share  of  the  two  biscuit.  It  was 
wrong  of  me  to  take  it,  for  I  'm  sure  you  must  be  suffering 
dreadfully." 

"  That's  true  enough,  WilTm ;  but  a  bit  o'  biscuit  would  n't 
a  made  no  difference.  It  must  come  to  the  same  thing  in 
the  end." 

"  To  what,  Ben  ?  "  inquired  the  lad,  observing  the  shadow 
that  had  overspread  the  countenance  of  his  companion,  which 
was  gloomier  than  he  had  ever  seen  it. 

The  sailor  remained  silent.  He  could  not  think  of  a  way 
to  evade  giving  the  correct  answer  to  the  question ;  and 
keeping  his  eyes  averted,  he  made  no  reply. 

"I  know  what  you  mean,"  continued  the  interrogator. 
"  Yes,  yes,  —  you  mean  that  we  must  die ! " 

"  No,  no,  WiU'm,  —  not  that ;  there 's  hope  yet,  —  who 
knows  what  may  turn  up  ?  It  may  be  that  the  prayer  will 
be  answered.  I M  like,  lad,  if  you  'd  go  over  it  again.  I 
think  I  could  iielp  you  better  this  time ;  for  I  once  knew  it 
myself,  —  long,  long  ago,  when  I  was  about  as  big  as  you  • 
and  hearin'  you  repeatin'  it,  it  has  come  most  o'  it  back  into 
my  memory  Go  over  it  again,  little  Will'm." 


FAITH.  —  HOPE.  15 

The  youth  Ghee  more  knelt  upon  the  raft,  and  in  the 
shadow  of  the  spread  tarpaulin  repeated  the  Lord's  Prayer, 
—  the  sailor,  in  his  rougher  voice,  pronouncing  the  words 
after  him. 

When  they  had  finished,  the  latter  once  more  rose  to  hia 
feet,  and  for  some  minutes  stood  scanning  the  circle  of  sea 
around  the  raft. 

The  faint  hope  which  that  trusting  reliance  in  his  Maker 
had  inspired  within  the  breast  of  the  rude  mariner  exhibited 
itself  for  a  moment  upon  his  countenance,  but  only  for  a 
moment.  '  No  object  greeted  his  vision,  save  the  blue,  bound- 
less sea,  and  the  equally  boundless  sky. 

A  despairing  look  replaced  that  transient  gleam  of  hope, 
and,  staggering  back  behind  the  tarpaulin,  he  once  more  flung 
his  body  prostrate  upon  the  raft. 

Again  they  lay,  side  by  side,  in  perfect  silence,  —  neither 
of  them  asleep,  but  both  in  a  sort  of  stupor,  produced  by 
their  unspoken  despair. 


CHAPTER    V. 

FAITH.  —  HOPE. 

HOW  long  they  lay  in  this  half-unconscious  condition, 
neither  took  note.      It  could  not  have  been  many 
minutes,  for  the  mind  under  such  circumstances  does  not 
long  surrender  itself  to  a  state  of  tranquillity. 

They  were  at  length  suddenly  roused  from  it,  —  not,  how- 
ever, by  any  thought  from  within,  —  but  by  an  object  striking 
on  their  external  senses,  or,  rather,  upon  the  sense  of  sight. 
Both  were  lying  upon  their  backs,  with  eyes  open  and  up 
turned  to  the  sky,  upon  which  there  was  not  a  speck  of  cloud 
to  vary  the  monotony  of  it?  endless  azure. 


16  THE   OCEAN  WAIFS. 

Its  monotony,  however,  was  at  that  moment  varied  by  a 
number  of  objects  that  passed  swiftly  across  their  field  of 
vision,  shining  and  scintillating  as  if  a  flight  of  silver  arrows 
had  been  shot  over  the  raft.  The  hues  of  blue  and  white 
were  conspicuous  in  the  bright  sunbeams,  and  those  gay- 
colored  creatures,  that  appeared  to  belong  to  the  air,  but 
which  in  reality  were  denizens  of  the  great  deep,  were  at 
onos  recognized  by  the  sailor. 

ft  A  shoal  o'  flyin'-fish,"  he  simply  remarked,  and  without 
removing  from  his  recumbent  position. 

Then  at  once,  as  if  some  hope  had  sprung  up  within  him 
at  seeing  them  continue  to  fly  over  the  raft,  and  so  near  as 
almost  to  touch  the  tarpaulin,  he  added,  starting  to  his  feet 
as  he  spoke, — 

"  What  if  I  might  knock  one  o'  'em  down !  Where  'a  the 
handspike  ?  " 

The  last  interrogatory  was  mechanical,  and  put  merely  to 
fill  up  the  time ;  for  as  he  gave  utterance  to  it  he  reached 
towards  the  implement  that  lay  within  reach  of  his  hands, 
and  eagerly  grasping  raised  it  aloft. 

With  such  a  weapon  it  was  probable  that  he  might  have 
succeeded  in  striking  down  one  of  the  winged  swimmers  that, 
pursued  by  the  bonitos  and  albacores,  were  still  leaping  over 
the  raft.  But  there  was  a  surer  weapon  behind  him,  —  in 
the  piece  of  canvas  spread  between  the  upright  oars ;  and 
just  as  the  sailor  had  got  ready  to  wield  his  huge  club,  a 
shining  object  flashed  close  to  his  eyes,  whilst  his  ears  were 
greeted  by  a  glad  sound,  signifying  that  one  of  the  vaulting 
fish  had  struck  against  the  tarpaulin. 

Of  course  it  had  dropped  down  upon  the  raft :  fcr  there  it 
was  flopping  and  bounding  about  among  the  folds  of  the 
flying-jib,  far  more  taken  by  surprise  than  Ben  Brace,  who 
had  witnessed  its  mishap,  or  even  little  William,  upon  whose 
face  it  had  fallen,  with  all  the  weight  of  its  watery  carcass. 
N"  a  bird  in  the  hand  be  worth  two  in  the  bush,  by  the  same 


FAITH.  —  HOPE.  17 

rule  a  fish  in  the  hand  should  be  worth  two  in  the  water,  and 
more  than  that  number  flying  in  the  air. 

Some  such  calculation  as  this  might  have  passed  through 
the  brain  of  Ben  Brace ;  for,  instead  of  continuing  to  hold 
his  handspike  high  flourished  over  his  head,  in  the  hope  of 
striking  another  fish,  he  suffered  the  implement  to  drop  down 
upon  the  raft ;  and  stooping  down,  he  reached  forward  to 
secure  the  one  that  had  voluntarily,  or,  rather,  shouldv  we 
say,  involuntarily,  offered  itself  as  a  victim. 

As  it  kept  leaping  about  over  the  raft,  there  was  just  the 
danger  that  it  might  reach  the  edge  of  that  limited  area,  and 
once  more  escape  to  its  natural  element. 

This,  however  naturally  desired  by  the  fish,  was  the  object 
which  the  occupants  of  the  raft  most  desired  to  prevent ;  and 
to  thai  end  both  had  got  upon  their  knees,  and  were  scram- 
bling over  the  sailcloth  with  as  much  eager  earnestness  as  a 
couple  of  terriers  engaged  in  a  scuffle  with  a  harvest  rat. 

Once  or  twice  little  William  had  succeeded  in  getting  the 
fish  in  his  fingers ;  but  the  slippery  creature,  armed  aLo  with 
its  spinous  fin-wings,  had  managed  each  time  to  glide  out  of 
his  grasp ;  and  it  was  still  uncertain  whether  a  capture  might 
be  made,  or  whether  after  all  they  were  only  to  be  tantalized 
by  the  touch  and  sight  of  a  morsel  of  food  that  was  never  to 
pass  over  their  palates. 

The  thought  of  such  a  disappointment  stimulated  Ben 
Brace  to  put  forth  all  his  energies,  coupled  with  his  greatest 
activity.  He  had  even  resolved  upon  following  the  fish  into 
the  sea  if  it  should  prove  necessary,  —  knowing  that  for 
the  first  few  moments  after  regaining  its  natural  element  it 
would  be  more  easy  of  capture.  But  just  then  an  oppor- 
tunity was  offered  that  promised  the  securing  of  the  prey 
without  the  necessity  of  wetting  a  stitch  of  his  clothes. 

The  fish  had  been  all  the  while  bounding  about  upon  the 
spread  sail-cloth,  near  the  edge  of  which  it  had  now  arrived. 
But  it  was  fated  to  go  no  farther,  at  least  of  its  own  accord) 


18  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

for  Ben  seeing  hiu  advantage,  seized  hold  of  the  loose  selvag« 
of  the  sail,  and  raising  it  a  little  from  the  raft,  doubled  it 
over  the  struggling  captive.  A  stiff  squeeze  brought  its 
struggles  to  a  termination ;  and  when  the  canvas  was  lifted 
aloft,  it  was  seen  lying  underneath,  slightly  flattened  out 
beyond  its  natural  dimensions,  and  it  is  scarcely  necessary  to 
say  as  dead  as  a  herring. 

Whether  right  or  no,  the  simple-minded  seaman  recognized 
in  this  seasonable  supply  of  provision  the  hand  of  an  over- 
ruling Providence ;  and  without  further  question,  attributed 
it  to  the  potency  of  that  prayer  twice  repeated. 

M  Yes,  Will'm,  you  see  it,  my  lad,  't  is  the  an^wor  to  that 
wonderful  prayer.  Let 's  go  over  it  once  more,  by  way  o' 
givin'  thanks.  He  who  has  sent  meat  can  also  gie  us  drink, 
even  here,  in  the  middle  o'  the  briny  ocean.  Come,  boy !  as 
the  parson  used  to  say  in  church,  —  let  us  pray  ! " 

And  with  this  serio-comic  admonition  —  meant,  however, 
in  all  due  solemnity  —  the  sailor  dropped  upon  his  knees, 
and,  as  before,  echoed  the  prayer  once  more  pronounced  by 
his  youthful  companion. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

FLYING-FISH. 

THE  flying-fish  takes  rank  as  one  of  the  most  conspicuous 
u  wonders  of  the  sea,"  and  in  a  tale  essentially  devoted 
to  the  great  deep,  it  is  a  subject  deserving  of  more  than  a 
passing  notice. 

From  the  earliest  periods  of  ocean  travel,  men  have  looked 
w'  h  astonishment  upon  a  phenomenon  not  only  singular  al 
''r.st  sight,  but  which  still  remains  unexplained,  namely,  a  fist 


FL1  ING-FISH.  9 

and  a  creature  believed  to  be  formed  only  for  dwelling  m* 
der  water,  springing  suddenly  above  the  surface,  to  the  height 
of  a  two-story  house,  and  passing  through  the  air  to  the  dis- 
tance of  a  furlong,  before  falling  back  into  its  own  proper 
element ! 

It  is  no  wonder  that  the  sight  should  cause  surprise  to  the 
most  indifferent  observer,  nor  that  it  should  have  been  long 
a  theme  of  speculation  with  the  curious,  and  an  interesting 
subject  of  investigation  to  the  naturalist. 

As  flying-fish  but  rarely  make  their  appearance  except  in 
warm  latitudes,  few  people  who  have  not  voyaged  to  the 
tropics  have  had  an  opportunity  of  seeing  them  in  their  night. 
Very  naturally,  therefore,  it  will  be  asked  what  kind  of  fish, 
that  is,  to  what  species  and  what  genus  the  flying-fish  be- 
long. Were  there  only  one  kind  of  these  curious  creatures 
the  answer  would  be  easier.  But  not  only  are  there  differ- 
ent species,  but  also  different  "  genera  "  of  fish  endowed  with 
the  faculty  of  flying,  and  which  from  the  earliest  times  and 
in  different  parts  of  the  world  have  equally  received  this 
characteristic  appellation.  A  word  or  two  about  each  sort 
must  suffice. 

First,  then,  there  are  two  species  belonging  to  the  genus 
Trigla,  or  the  Gurnards,  to  which  M.  Lacepede  has  given  the 
name  of  Dactylopterus. 

One  species  is  found  in  the  Mediterranean,  and  individu- 
als, from  a  foot  to  fifteen  inches  in  length,  are  often  taken  by 
the  fishermen,  and  brought  to  the  markets  of  Malta,  Sicily, 
and  even  to  the  city  of  Rome.  The  other  species  of  flying 
gurnard  occur  in  the  Indian  Ocean  and  the  seas  around 
China  and  Japan. 

The  tiue  flying-fish,  however,  that  is  to  say,  those  that  are 
met  with  in  the  great  ocean,  and  most  spoken  of  in  books, 
and  in  the  "  yarns  "  of  the  sailor,  are  altogether  of  a  different 
kind  from  the  gurnards.  They  are  not  only  different  in 
genus,  but  in  the  family  and  even  the  order  of  fishes  They 


20  THE   OCEAN  WAIFS. 

are  of  the  genus  Exocetus,  and  in  form  and  other  respect* 
have  a  considerable  resemblance  to  the  common  pike.  There 
are  several  species  of  them  inhabiting  different  parts  of  the 
tropical  seas  ;  and  sometimes  individuals,  in  the  sammer, 
have  been  seen  as  fur  north  as  the  coast  of  Cornwall  in  Eu- 
rope, and  on  the  banks  of  Newfoundland  in  America.  Their 
natural  habitat,  however,  is  in  the  warm  latitudes  of  the 
ocean  ;  and  only  there  are  they  met  with  in  large  "  schools," 
and  seen  with  any  frequency  taking  their  aerial  flight. 

For  a  long  time  there  was  supposed  to  be  only  one,  or  at 
most  two,  species  of  the  Exocetus  ;  but  it  is  now  certain  there 
are  several  —  perhaps  as  many  as  half  a  dozen  —  distinct 
from  each  other.  They  are  all  much  alike  in  their  habits,  — 
differing  only  in  size,  color,  and  such  like  circumstances. 

Naturalists  disagree  as  to  the  character  of  their  flight. 
Some  assert  that  it  is  only  a  leap,  and  this  is  the  prevailing 
opinion.  Their  reason  for  regarding  it  thus  is,  that  while 
the  fish  is  in  the  air  there  cannot  be  observed  any  movement 
of  the  wings  (pectoral  fins)  ;  and,  moreover,  after  reaching 
the  height  to  which  it  attains  on  its  first  spring,  it  cannot 
afterwards  rise  higher,  but  gradually  sinks  lower  till  it  dropa 
suddenly  back  into  the  water. 

This  reasoning  is  neither  clear  nor  conclusive.  A  similar 
power  of  suspending  themselves  in  the  air,  without  motion 
of  the  wings  is  well  known  to  belong  to  many  birds,  —  as  the 
vulture,  the  albatross,  the  petrels,  and  others.  Besides,  it  is 
difficult  to  conceive  of  a  leap  twenty  feet  high  and  two  hun- 
dred yards  long ;  for  the  flight  of  the  Exocetus  has  been 
observed  to  be  carried  to  this  extent,  and  even  farther 

It  is  probable  that  the  movement  partakes  both  of  the 
nature  of  leaping  and  flying  :  that  it  is  first  begun  by  a  spring 
up  out  of  the  water,  —  a  power  possessed  by  most  other  kinds 
offish,  —  and  that  the  impulse  thus  obtained  is  continued  by 
the  spread  fins  acting  on  the  air  after  the  fashion  of  para* 
chutes.  It  is  known  that  the  fish  can  greatly  lighten  th« 


FLYING-FISH.  '  21 

specific  gravity  of  its  body  by  the  inflation  of  its  "  swim* 
bladder,"  which,  when  perfectly  extended,  occupies  nearly 
the  entire  cavity  of  its  abdomen.  In  addition  to  this,  there 
is  a  membrane  in  the  mouth  which  can  be  inflated  through 
the  gills.  These  two  reservoirs  are  capable  of  containing 
a  considerable  volume  of  air ;  and  as  the  fish  has  the  power 
of  filling  or  emptying  them  at  will,  they  no  doubt  play  an 
important  part  in  the  mechanism  of  its  aerial  movement. 

One  thing  is  certain,  that  the  flying-fish  can  turn  while  in 
the  air,  —  that  is,  diverge  slightly  from  the  direction  first 
taken ;  and  this  would  seem  to  argue  a  capacity  something 
more  than  that  of  a  mere  spring  or  leap.  Besides,  the  wings 
make  a  perceptible  noise,  —  a  sort  of  rustling,  —  often  dis- 
tinctly heard ;  and  they  have  been  seen  to  open  and  close 
while  the  creature  is  in  the  air. 

A  shoal  of  flying-fish  might  easily  be  mistaken  for  a  flock 
of  white  birds,  though  their  rapid  movements,  and  the  glis- 
tening sheen  of  their  scales  —  especially  when  the  sun  is 
shining  —  usually  disclose  their  true  character.  They  are 
at  all  times  a  favorite  spectacle,  and  with  all  observers,  —  the 
old  "  salt "  who  has  seen  them  a  thousand  times,  and  the 
young  sailor  on  his  maiden  voyage,  who  beholds  them  for  the 
first  time  in  his  life.  Many  an  hour  of  ennui  occurring  to 
the  ship-traveller,  as  he  sits  upon  the  poop,  restlessly  scan- 
ning the  monotonous  surface  of  the  sea,  has  been  brought  to 
a  cheerful  termination  by  the  appearance  of  a  shoal  of  flying- 
fish  suddenly  sparkling  up  out  of  the  bosom  of  the  deep. 

The  flying-fish  appear  to  be  the  most  persecuted  of  all 
creatures.  It  is  to  avoid  their  enemies  under  water  that 
they  take  JM  and  mount  into  the  air  ;  but  the  old  proverb, 
"  out  of  tl  e  frying-pan  into  the  fire,"  is  but  too  applicable  in 
their  case,  for  in  their  endeavors  to  escape  from  the  jaws  of 
dolphins,  albicores,  bonitos,  and  other  petty  tyrants  of  the 
sea,  they  rush  into  the  beaks  of  gannets,  boobies,  albatrosses, 
and  other  petty  tyrants  of  the  sky. 


22  THE   OCEAN  WAIFS. 

Much  sympathy  has  been  felt  —  or  at  all  events  expressed 
—  for  these  pretty  and  apparently  innocent  little  victims. 
But,  alas  !  our  sympathy  receives  a  sad  shock,  when  it  be- 
comes known  that  the  flying-fish  is  himself  one  of  the  petty 
tyrants  of  the  ocean, — being,  like  his  near  congener,  the  pike 
a  most  ruthless  little  destroyer  and  devourer  of  any  fish  small 
pnough  to  go  down  his  gullet. 

Besides  the  two  genera  of  flying-fish  above  described,  there 
are  certain  other  marine  animals  which  are  gifted  with  a  sim- 
ilar power  of  sustaining  themselves  for  some  seconds  in  the 
air.  They  are  often  seen  in  the  Pacific  and  Indian  oceans, 
rising  out  of  the  water  in  shoals,  just  like  the  Exoceti:  and, 
like  them,  endeavoring  to  escape  from  the  albicores  and  bo- 
nitos  that  incessantly  pursue  them.  These  creatures  are  not 
fish  in  the  true  sense  of  the  word,  but  "  mollusks,"  of  the 
genus  Loligo  ;  and  the  name  given  to  them  by  the  whalers 
of  the  Pacific  is  that  of  «  Flying  Squid." 


CHAPTER    VII. 

A    CHEEKING    CLOUD. 

particular  species  of  flying-fish  that  had  fallen  into 
•  the  clutches  of  the  two  starving  castaways  upon  tha 
raft  was  the  Exocetus  evolans,  or  "  Spanish  flying-fish  "  of 
mariners,  —  a  well-known  inhabitant  of  the  warmer  latitudes 
>f  the  Atlantic.  Its  body  was  of  a  steel-blue,  olive  and  gil- 
very  white  underneath,  with  its  large  pectoral  fins  (its  wings) 
of  a  powdered  gray  color.  It  was  one  of  the  largest  of  its 
kind,  being  rather  over  twelve  inches  in  length,  and  nearly  a 
pound  in  weight. 

Of  course,  it  afforded  but  a  very  slight  meal  for  two  hungry 


A  CHEERING  CLOUD.  23 

•Uaiachs,  —  such  as  were  those  of  Ben  Brace  and  his  boy 
K>mpanion.  Still  it  helped  to  strengthen  them  a  little ;  and 
it*  opportune  arrival  upon  the  raft  —  which  they  could  not 
help  regarding  as  providential  —  had  the  further  effect  of 
rendering  them  for  a  time  more  cheerful,  hopefuL 

It  is  not  necessary  to  say  that  they  ate  the  creature  with- 
out cooking  it ;  and  although  under  ordinary  circumstances 
this  might  be  regarded  as  a  hardship,  neither  was  at  that 
moment  in  the  mood  to  be  squeamish.  They  thought  the 
dish  dainty  enough.  It  was  its  quantity  —  not  the  quality  — 
that  failed  to  give  satisfaction. 

Indeed  the  flying-fish  is  (when  cooked,  of  couree)  one  of 
the  most  delicious  of  morsels,  —  a  good  deai  resembling  the 
common  herring  when  caught  freshly,  and  dressed  in  a  proper 
manner. 

It  seemed,  however,  as  if  the  partial  relief  from  hunger 
only  aggravated  the  kindred  appetite  from  which  the  occu- 
pants of  the  raft  had  already  begun  to  suffer.  Perhaps  the 
salt-water,  mingled  with  the  saline  juices  of  the  fish,  aided 
in  producing  this  effect.  In  any  case,  it  was  not  long  after 
they  had  eaten  the  Exocetus  before  both  felt  thirst  in  its  very 
keenest  agony. 

Extreme  thirst,  under  any  circumstances,  is  painful  to 
endure ;  but  under  no  conditions  is  it  so  excruciating  as  in 
the  midst  of  the  ocean.  The  sight  of  water  which  you  may 
not  drink,  —  the  very  proximity  of  that  element,  —  so  near 
that  you  may  touch  it,  and  yet  as  useless  to  the  assuaging  of 
thirst  as  if  it  was  the  parched  dust  of  the  desert,  —  increases 
rather  than  alleviates  the  appetite.  It  is  to  no  purpose,  that 
you  dip  your  fingers  into  the  briny  flood,  and  endeavor  to 
cool  your  lips  and  tongue  by  taking  it  into  the  mouth.  To 
swallow  it  is  still  worse.  You  might  as  well  think  to  allay 
thirst  by  drinking  liquid  fire.  The  momentary  moistening 
of  the  mouth  and  tongue  is  succeeded  by  au  almost  instanta- 
neous parching  of  the  salivary  gland*,  which  only  glow  with 
redoubled  ardor. 


24  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

Ben  Brace  knev  this  well  enough ;  and  once  or  twice  that 
little  William  lifted  the  sea-water  on  his  palm  and  applied  it 
to  his  lips,  the  sailor  cautioned  him  to  desist,  saying  that  it 
would  do  him  more  harm  than  good. 

In  one  of  his  pockets  Ben  chanced  to  have  a  leaden  bullet, 
which  he  gave  the  boy,  telling  him  to  keep  it  in  his  mouth 
and  occasionally  to  chew  it.  By  this  means  the  secretion  of 
the  saliva  was  promoted ;  and  although  it  was  but  slight,  the 
sufferer  obtained  a  little  relief. 

Ben  himself  held  the  axe  to  his  lips,  and  partly  by  pressing 
his  tongue  against  the  iron,  and  partly  by  gnawing  the  angle 
of  the  blade,  endeavored  to  produce  the  same  effect. 

It  was  but  a  poor  means  of  assuaging  that  fearful  thirst 
that  was  now  the  sole  object  of  their  thoughts,  —  it  might  be 
said  their  only  sensation,  —  for  all  other  feelings,  both  of 
pleasure  or  pain,  had  become  overpowered  by  this  one.  On 
food  they  no  longer  reflected,  though  still  hungry ;  but  the 
appetite  of  hunger,  even  when  keenest,  is  far  less  painful 
than  that  of  thirst.  The  former  weakens  the  frame,  so  that 
the  nervous  system  becomes  dulled,  and  less  sensible  of  the 
affliction  it  is  enduring ;  whereas  the  latter  may  exist  to  its 
extremest  degree,  while  the  body  is  in  full  strength  and 
vigor,  and  therefore  more  capable  of  feeling  pain. 

They  suffered  for  several  hours,  almost  all  the  time  in 
silence.  The  words  of  cheer  which  the  sailor  had  addressed 
to  his  youthful  comrade  were  now  only  heard  occasionally, 
and  at  long  intervals,  and  when  heard  were  spoken  in  a  tone 
that  proclaimed  their  utterance  to  be  merely  mechanical,  and 
that  he  who  gave  tongue  to  them  had  but  slight  hope.  Little 
as  lemained,  however,  he  would  rise  from  time  to  time  to 
his  feet,  and  stand  for  a  while  scanning  the  horizon  around 
him.  Then  as  his  scrutiny  once  more  terminated  in  disap- 
pointment, he  would  sink  back  upon  the  canvas,  and  half- 
kneeling,  half-lying,  give  way  for  an  interval  to  a  half  stupor 
of  despair. 


A  CANVAS  TANK.  20 

From  one  of  these  moods  he  was  suddenly  aroused  by 
cucumstance  which  had  made  no  impression  on  his  youthfu 
companion,  though  the  latter  had  also  observed  it.     It  waa 
simply  the  darkening  of  the  sun  by  a  cloud  passing  over  its 
disc 

Little  William  wondered  that  an  incident  of  so  common 
character  should  produce  so  marked  an  effect  as  it  had  done 
upon  his  protector :  for  the  latter  on  perceiving  that  the  sun 
had  become  shadowed  instantly  started  to  his  feet,  and  stood 
gazing  up  towards  the  sky.  A  change  had  come  over  his 
countenance.  His  eyes,  instead  of  the  sombre  look  of  despair 
observable  but  the  moment  before,  seemed  now  to  sparkle 
with  hope.  In  fact,  the  cloud  which  had  darkened  the  face 
of  the  sun  appeared  to  have  produced  the  very  opposite  effect 
upon  the  face  of  the  sailor ! 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

I 

A   CANVAS   TANK. 

«  ^TTTHAT  1S  ifc>  Ben?"  asked  "William,  in  a  voice 
T  T  husky  and  hoarse,  from  the  parched  throat  through 
which  it  had  to  pass.  "  You  look  pleased  like  ;  do  you  see 
anything  ?  " 

"  I  see  that,  boy,"  replied  the  sailor,  pointing  up  into  the 
aky. 

"  What  ?  I  see  nothing  there  except  that  great  cloud 
that  has  just  passed  over  the  sun.  What  is  there  in 
that?" 

"Ay,  what  is  there  in't?  That's  just  what  I'm  tiyin' 
to  make  out,  Will'm ;  an'  if  I  'm  not  mistaken,  boy,  them  'i 
in  '<  the  very  thing  as  we  bol,h  wants." 


26  THE  OCEAN  WAIB'S. 

"Water!"  gasped  William,  his  eyes  lighting  up  with  • 
gleam  of  hope.  "  A  rain-cloud  you  think,  Ben  ?  " 

"I'm  a'most  sure  o't,  Will'm.  I  never  seed  a  bank  o' 
cloads  like  them  there  was  n't  some  wet  in ;  and  if  the  wind 
11  only  drift  'em  this  way,  we  may  get  a  shower  '11  be  the 
s&?in'  o'  our  lives.  O  Lord  !  in  thy  mercy  look  down  on  us, 
aid  send  'em  over  us  ! " 

The  boy  echoed  the  prayer. 

"  See ! "  cried  the  sailor.  "  The  wind  is  a  fetchin'  them  this 
way.  Yonder 's  more  o'  the  same  sort  risin'  up  in  the  west, 
an'  that 's  the  direction  from  which  it 's  a  blowin'.  Ho !  As 
I  live,  Will'm,  there 's  rain.  I  can  see  by  the  mist  it 's  a 
fallin'  on  the  water  yonder.  It 's  still  far  away,  —  twenty 
mile  or  so,  —  but  that 's  nothing ;  an'  if  the  wind  holds  good 
in  the  same  quarter,  it  must  come  this  way." 

u  But  if  it  did,  Ben,"  said  William,  doubtingly,  "  what 
good  would  it  do  us  ?  We  could  not  drink  much  of  the  rain 
as  it  falls,  and  you  know  we  have  nothing  in  which  to  catch 
a  drop  of  it." 

"  But  we  have,  boy,  —  we  have  our  clothes  and  our  shirts. 
If  the  rain  comes,  it  will  fall  like  it  always  does  in  thesfe 
parts,  as  if  it  were  spillin'  out  o'  a  strainer.  We  '11  be  soakin' 
wet  in  five  minutes'  time ;  and  then  we  can  wring  all  out,  — 
trousers,  shirts,  and  every  rag  we  've  got." 

"  But  we  have  no  vessel,  Ben,  —  what  could  we  wring  the 
water  into  ?  " 

"Into  our  mouths  first:  after  that — ah!  it  be  a  pity.  I 
never  thought  o't  We  won't  be  able  to  save  a  drop  for 
another  time.  Any  rate,  if  we  could  only  get  one  good 
quenchin',  we  might  stand  it  several  days  longer.  I  fancy 
we  might  catch  some  fish,  if  we  were  only  sure  about  the 
water.  Yes,  the  rain 's  a  comin'  on.  Look  at  yon  black 
clouds ;  and  see,  there 's  lightning  forkin'  among  'em.  That  'a 
a  sure  sign  it's  raining.  Let's  strip,  and  spread  out  oui 
shirts  so  as  to  have  them,  ready." 


A  CANVAS  TANK.  1  / 

> 

Aa  Ben  uttered  this  admonition  Le  was  about  proeeedii,  < 
to  pull  olF  his  pea-jacket,  when  an  object  came  before  h<s 
eyes  causing  him  to  desist.  At  the  same  instant  an  ex- 
clamatory phrase  escaping  from  his  lips  explained  to  his 
companion  why  he  had  thus  suddenly  changed  his  intejtiou. 
The  phrase  consisted  of  two  simple  words,  which  written  M 
pronounced  by  Ben  were,  "  Thee  tarpolin." 

Little  William  knew  it  was  "the  tarpauling"  that  v/aa 
meant.  He  could  not  be  mistaken  about  that ;  for,  even  had 
he  been  ignorant  of  the  sailor's  pronunciation  of  the  words, 
the  latter  at  that  moment  stood  pointing  to  the  piece  of  tarred 
canvas  spread  upright  between  the  oars ;  and  which  had 
formerly  served  as  a  covering  for  the  after-hatch  of  the 
Pandora.  William  did  not  equally  understand  why  his 
f»mpanion  was  pointing  to  it. 

He  was  not  left  long  in  ignorance. 

u  Nothing  to  catch  the  water  in  ?  That 's  what  you  sayed, 
little  Will'm  ?  What  do  ye  call  that,  my  boy  ?  " 

"  Oh ! "  replied  the  lad,  catching  at  the  idea  of  the  sailor. 
u  You  mean  —  " 

"  I  mean,  boy,  that  there 's  a  vessel  big  enough  to  hold 
gallons,  —  a  dozen  o'  'em." 

"  You  think  it  would  hold  water  ?  " 

"  I  'm  sure  o't,  lad.  For  what  else  be  it  made  waterproof? 
I  helped  tar  it  myself  not  a  week  ago.  It  '11  hold  like  a  rum- 
cask,  I  warrant,  —  ay,  an'  it'll  be  the  very  thing  to  catch  it 
too.  We  can  keep  it  spiead  out  a  bit  wi'  a  hollow  place  in 
the  middle,  an'  if  it  do  rain,  there  then,  —  my  boy,  we  '11  ha'  a 
pool  big  enough  to  swim  ye  in.  Hurrah  !  it 's  sure  to  rain. 
See  yonder.  It  be  comin'  nearer  every  minute.  Let 's  be 
ready  for  it.  Down  wi'  the  mainsail.  Let  go  the  sheets,  -~ 
an*  instead  o'  spreadin'  our  canvas  to  the  wind,  as  the  song 
Bays,  we'll  stretih  it  out  to  the  rain.  Come,  Will'm,  let's 
look  alive ! " 

William  had  by  this  time  also  risen  to  his  feet ;  and  both 


28  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

now  busied  themselves  in  unlashing  the  cords  that  had  kepi 
the  hatch-covering  spread  between  the  two  oars. 

This  occupied  only  a  few  seconds  of  time ;  and  the  tar 
pauling  soon  lay  detached  between  the  extemporized  masts, 
that  were  still  permitted  to  remain  as  they  had  been 
"  stepped." 

At  first  the  sailor  had  thought  of  holding  the  piece  of 
tarred  canvas  in  their  hands ;  but  having  plenty  of  time  to 
reflect,  a  better  plan  suggested  itself.  So  long  as  it  should 
be  thus  held,  they  would  have  no  chance  of  using  their  hands 
for  any  other  purpose  ;  and  would  be  in  a  dilemma  as  to  how 
they  should  dispose  of  the  water  after  having  "  captured  it." 

It  did  not  require  much  ingenuity  to  alter  their  programme 
for  the  better.  By  means  of  the  flying-jib  that  lay  along 
the  raft,  they  were  enabled  to  construct  a  ridge  of  an  irreg- 
ular circular  shape;  and  then  placing  the  tarpauling  upon 
the  top,  and  spreading  it  out  so  that  its  edges  lapped  over 
this  ridge,  they  formed  a  deep  concavity  or  "tank"  in  the 
middle,  which  was  capable  of  holding  many  gallons  of 
water. 

It  only  remained  to  examine  the  canvas,  and  make  sure 
there  were  no  rents  or  holes  by  which  the  water  might  escape. 
This  was  done  with  all  the  minuteness  and  care  that  the 
circumstances  called  for ;  and  when  the  sailor  at  length  be- 
came satisfied  that  the  tarpauling  was  waterproof,  he  took 
the  hand  of  his  youthful  protege  in  his  own,  and  both  kneel- 
ing upon  the  raft,  with  their  faces  turned  towards  the  west, 
watched  the  approach  of  those  dark,  lowering  clouds,  as  if 
they  had  been  bright-winged  angel;  sent  from  the  far  sky 
to  deliver  them  from  destruction. 


A  PLEASANT  SHOWER-BATH.  21 

CHAPTER   IX. 

A  PLEASANT   SHOWEB-BATH. 

TIIHEY  had  not  much  longer  to  wait.  The  storm  came 
I  striding  across  the  ocean ;  and,  to  the  intense  gratifica- 
tion of  both  man  and  boy,  the  rain  was  soon  falling  upon 
them,  as  if  a  water-spout  had  burst  over  their  heads. 

A  single  minute  sufficed  to  collect  over  a  quart  within  the 
hollow  of  the  spread  tarpauling ;  and  before  that  minute  had 
transpired,  both  might  have  been  seen  lying  prostrate  upon 
their  faces  with  their  heads  together,  near  the  centre  of  th« 
concavity,  and  their  lips  close  to  the  canvas,  sucking  up  the 
delicious  drops,  almost  as  fast  as  they  fell. 

For  a  long  time  they  continued  in  this  position,  indulging 
in  that  cool  beverage  sent  them  from  the  sky,  —  which  to 
both  appeared  the  sweetest  they  had  ever  tasted  in  their 
lives.  So  engrossed  were  they  in  its  enjoyment,  that  neither 
spoke  a  word  until  several  minutes  had  elapsed,  and  both  had 
drunk  to  a  surfeit. 

They  were  by  this  time  wet  to  the  skin ;  for  the  tropic 
rain,  falling  in  a  deluge  of  thick  heavy  drops,  soon  saturated 
their  garments  through  and  through.  But  this,  instead  of 
being  an  inconvenience,  was  rather  agreeable  than  other- 
wise, cooling  their  skins  so  long  parched  by  the  torrid  rays 
of  the  sun. 

"  Little  Will'm,"  said  Ben,  after  swallowing  about  a  gallon 
of  the  rain-water,  "  did  n't  I  say  that  He  as  sent  us  meat,  in 
such  good  time  too,  could  also  gi'  us  som'at  to  drink  ?  Look 
there !  water  enow  to  last  us  for  days,  lad ! " 

"  'T  is  wonderful ! "  exclaimed  the  boy.  "  I  am  sure,  Ben, 
that  Providence  has  done  this.  Indeed,  it  must  be  true  what 
I  was  often  told  in  the  Sunday  school,  —  that  God  is  every- 
where. Here  He  is  presen*  with  us  hi  the  midst  of  tfu* 
- 


80  THE  OCEAN   WAIFS. 

great  ocean.  O,  dear  Ben,  let 's  hope  He  will  not  forsak« 
us  now.  I  almost  feel  sure,  after  what  has  happened  to  ua 
that  the  hand  of  God  will  yet  deliver  us  from  our  danger." 

"  I  almost  teel  so  myself,"  rejoined  the  sailor,  his  coun 
tenance   resuming   its  wonted   expression   of   cheerfulness 
"After  what's   happened,  one  could  not  think  otherwise 
but  let  us  remember,  lad,  that  He  is  up  aloft,  an'  has  done 
so  much  for  us,  expecting  us  to  do  what  we  can  for  ourselves. 
He  puts  the  work  within  our  reach,  an'  then  leaves  us  to  dc 
it.     Now  here 's  this  fine  supply  o'  water.     If  we  was  to  let 
that  go  to  loss,  it  would  be  our  own  fault,  not  his,  an'  we  'd 
deserve  to  die  o'  thirst  for  it." 

"  What  is  to  be  done,  Ben  ?     How  are  we  to  keep  it  ?  " 

"That's  just  what  I'm  thinkin'  about.  In  a  very  short 
while  the  rain  will  be  over.  I  know  the  sort  o'  it.  It  be 
only  one  o'  these  heavy  showers  as  falls  near  the  line,  and 
won't  last  more  than  half  an  hour,  —  if  that  Then  the  sun  '11 
be  out  as  hot  as  ever,  an'  will  lick  up  the  water  most  as  fast 
as  it  fell, —  that  is,  if  we  let  it  lie  there.  Yes,  in  another  half 
o'  an  hour  that  tarpolin  would  be  as  dry  as  the  down  upon 
a  booby's  back." 

"  0  dear !  what  shall  we  do  to  prevent  evaporating  ?  " 

"  Jest  give  me  a  minute  to  consider,"  rejoined  the  sailor, 
scratching  his  head,  and  putting  on  an  air  of  profound  reflec- 
tion ;  "  maybe  afore  the  rain  quits  comin'  down,  I  '11  think  o' 
borne  way  to  keep  it  from  ewaporating ;  that 's  what  you  call 
the  dryin'  o'  it  up." 

Ben  remained  for  some  minutes  silent,  in  the  thoughtful 
attitude  he  had  assumed,  —  while  William,  who  was  equally 
interested  in  the  result  of  his  cogitations,  watched  his  counte- 
nance with  an  eager  anxiety. 

Soon  a  joyful  expression  revealed  itself  to  the  glance  of 
the  boy,  telling  him  that  his  companion  had  hit  upon  some 
promising  scheme. 

"I  think  I  ha'  got  it,  Will'm,"  said  he;  "I  think  IVe 
found  a  way  to  stow  the  water  even  without  a  cask." 


A  PLEASANT  SHOWER-BATH.  31 

*  You  have ! "  joyfully  exclaimed  William.    "  How,  Ben  ?" 

"  Well,  you  see,  boy,  the  tarpolin  holds  water  as  tight  as 
If  't  were  a  glass  bottle.  I  tarred  it  myself,  —  that  did  I , 
an'  as  I  never  did  my  work  lubber-like,  I  done  that  job  well. 
Lucky  I  did,  war  n't  it,  William  ?  " 

« It  was." 

"  That  be  a  lesson  for  you,  lad.  Schemin'  work  bean't 
the  thing,  you  see.  It  comes  back  to  cuss  one ;  while  work 
as  be  well  did  be  often  like  a  blessin'  arterward, — just  as 
this  tarpolin  be  now.  But  see !  as  I  told  you,  the  rain  would 
soon  be  over.  There  be  the  sun  again,  hot  an'  fiery  as  ever. 
There  ain't  no  time  to  waste.  Take  a  big  drink,  afore  I  put 
the  stopper  into  the  bottle."  • 

William,  without  exactly  comprehending  what  his  com- 
panion meant  by  the  last  words,  obeyed  the  injunction ;  and 
stretching  forward  over  the  rim  of  the  improvised  tank,  onc6 
more  placed  his  lips  to  the  water,  and  drank  copiously.  Ben 
did  the  same  for  himself,  passing  several  pints  of  the  fluid 
mto  his  capacious  stomach. 

Then  rising  to  his  feet  with  a  satisfied  air,  and  directing  hia 
protege  to  do  the  same,  he  set  about  the  stowage  of  the  water. 

William  was  first  instructed  as  to  the  intended  plan,  so 
that  he  might  be  able  to  render  prompt  and  efficient  aid ;  for 
it  would  require  both  of  them,  and  with  all  their  hands,  to 
carry  it  out. 

The  sailor's  scheme  was  sufficiently  ingenious.  It  con- 
sisted in  taking  up  first  the  corners  of  the  tarpauling,  then 
the  edges  all  around,  and  bringing  them  together  in  the 
centre.  This  had  to  be  done  with  great  care,  so  as  not  to 
jumble  the  volatile  fluid  contained  within  the  canvas,  and 
spill  it  over  the  selvage.  Some  did  escape,  but  only  a  very 
little ;  and  they  at  length  succeeded  in  getting  the  tarpauling 
formed  into  a  sort  of  bag,  puckered  around  the  mouth. 

While  Ben  with  both  arms  held  the  gathers  firm  and  fast, 
William  passed  a  loop  of  strong  cord,  that  had  already  be«B 
~ 


32  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

made  into  a  noose  for  the  purpose,  around  the  neck  of  the 
bag,  c!~se  under  Ben's  wrists,  and  then  drawing  the  other 
end  round  one  of  the  upright  oars,  he  pulled  upon  the  cord 
with  all  his  might. 

It  soon  tightened  sufficiently  to  giv«  Ben  the  free  ase  of 
his  hands ;  when  with  a  fresh  loop  taken  around  the  crumpled 
canvas,  and  after  a  turn  or  two  to  render  it  more  secure,  the 
cord  was  made  fast. 

The  tarpauling  now  rested  upon  the  raft,  a  distended  mass, 
like  the  stomach  of  some  huge  animal  coated  with  tar.  It 
was  necessary,  however,  lest  the  water  should  leak  out  through 
the  creases,  to  keep  the  top  where  it  was  tied,  uppermost ; 
and  this  was  effected  by  taking  a  turn  or  two  of  the  rope 
round  the  upmost  end  of  one  of  the  oars,  that  had  served  for 
masts,  and  there  making  a  knot.  By  this  means  the  great 
water-sack  was  held  in  such  a  position  that,  although  the 
contents  might  "bilge"  about  at  their  pleasure,  not  a  drop 
could  escape  out  either  at  the  neck  or  elsewhere. 

Altogether  they  had  secured  a  quantity  of  water,  not  less 
than  a  dozen  gallons,  which  Ben  had  succeeded  in  stowing  to 
his  satisfaction. 


CHAPTER    X. 

THE   PILOT-FISH. 

fllHIS  opportune  deliverance  from  the  most  fearful  of 
1  deaths  had  inspired  the  sailor  with  a  hope  that  they 
raigbt  still,  by  some  further  interference  of  Providence, 
escaj  3  from  their  perilous  position.  Relying  on  this  hope, 
he  resolved  to  leave  no  means  untried  that  might  promise  te 
lead  to  its  realization. 

They  were  now  furnished  with  a  stock  of  water  <vhich» 


THE  PILOT-FISH.  38 

if  carefully  hoarded,  would  last  them  for  weeks.  If  they 
could  only  obtain  a  proportionate  supply  of  food,  there  would 
still  be  a  chance  of  their  sustaining  life  until  some  ship  might 
make  its  appearance,  —  for,  of  course,  they  thought  not  of 
any  other  means  of  deliverance. 

To  think  of  food  was  to  think  of  fishing  for  it.  In  the  vast 
reservoir  of  the  ocean  under  and  around  them  there  was  no 
lack  of  nourishing  food,  if  they  could  only  grasp  it ;  but  the 
sailor  well  knew  that  the  shy,  slippery  denizens  of  the  deep 
are  not  to  be  captured  at  will,  and  that,  with  all  the  poor 
schemes  they  might  be  enabled  to  contrive,  their  efforts  to 
capture  even  a  single  fish  might  be  exerted  in  vain. 

Still  they  could  try ;  and  with  that  feeling  of  hopeful  con- 
fidence which  usually  precedes  such  trials,  they  set  about 
making  preparations. 

The  first  thing  was  to  make  hooks  and  lines.  There 
chanced  to  be  some  pins  in  their  clothing ;  and  with  these 
Ben  soon  constructed  a  tolerable  set  of  hooks.  A  line  was 
obtained  by  untwisting  a  piece  of  rope,  and  respinning  it  to 
the  proper  thickness  ;  and  then  a  float  was  found  by  cutting 
a  piece  of  wood  to  the  proper  dimensions.  And  for  a  sinker 
there  was  the  leaden  bullet  with  which  little  William  had  of 
late  so  vainly  endeavored  to  allay  the  pangs  of  thirst  The 
bones  and  fins  of  the  flying-fish  —  the  only  part  of  it  not 
eaten —  would  serve  for  bait.  They  did  not  promise  to  make 
a  very  attractive  one ;  for  there  was  not  a  morsel  of  flesh 
left  upon  them ;  but  Ben  knew  that  there  are  many  kinds 
of  fish  inhabiting  the  great  ocean  that  will  seize  at  any  sort 
of  bait,  —  even  a  piece  of  rag,  —  without  considering  whether 
it  be  good  for  them  or  not. 

They  had  seen  fish  several  times  near  the  raft,  during 
that  very  day ;  but  suffering  as  they  were  from  thirst  more 
than  hunger,  and  despairing  of  relief  to  the  more  painful 
appetite,  they  had  made  no  attempt  to  capture  them.  Now, 
however,  they  were  determined  to  set  about  it  in  earnest. 
2*  .  0 


84  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

The  rain  had  ceased  falling,  the  breeze  no  longer  disturbed 
the  surface  of  the  sea.  The  clouds  had  passed  over  the 
canopy  of  the  heavens,  —  the  sky  was  clear,  and  the  sun 
bright  and  hot  as  before. 

Ben  standing  erect  upon  the  raft,  with  the  baited  hook  in 
his  hand,  looked  down  into  the  deep  blue  water. 

Even  the  smallest  fish  could  have  been  seen  many  fathoma 
below  the  surface,  and  far  ever  the  ocean. 

William  on  the  other  side  of  the  raft  was  armed  with  hook 
and  line,  and  equally  on  the  alert. 

For  a  long  time  their  vigil  was  unrewarded.  No  living 
thing  came  within  view.  Nothing  was  under  their  eyes  save 
the  boundless  field  of  ultramarine,  —  beautiful,  but  to  them, 
at  that  moment,  marked  only  by  a  miserable  monotony. 

They  had  stood  thus  for  a  full  hour,  when  an  exclamation 
escaping  from  the  lad,  caused  his  companion  to  turn  and  look 
to  the  other  side  of  the  raft. 

A  fish  was  in  sight.  It  was  that  which  had  drawn  the 
exclamation  from  the  boy,  who  was  now  swinging  his  line  in 
the  act  of  casting  it  out. 

The  ejaculation  had  been  one  of  joy.  It  was  checked  on 
his  perceiving  that  the  sailor  did  not  share  it.  On  the  con- 
trary, a  cloud  came  over  the  countenance  of  the  latter  on 
perceiving  the  fish,  —  whose  species  he  at  once  recognized. 

And  why  ?  for  it  was  one  of  the  most  beautiful  of  the 
finny  tribe.  A  little  creature  of  perfect  form,  —  of  a  bright 
azure  blue,  with  transverse  bands  of  deeper  tint,  forming 
rings  around  its  body.  Why  did  Ben  Brace  show  disap- 
pointment at  its  appearance  ? 

"  You  need  n't  trouble  to  throw  out  your  line,  little 
WilPm,"  said  he,  "  that  ere  takes  no  bait,  —  not  it." 

«  Why  ?  "  asked  the  boy. 

"  Because  it 's  something  else  to  do  than  forage  for  itself 
I  dare  say  its  master  an't  far  off." 

"What  is  it?" 


THE  PILOT-FISH.  35 

*  That  be  the  pilot-fish.  See !  turns  away  from  us.  It  '• 
gone  back  to  him  as  has  sent  it." 

«  Sent  it !     Who,  Ben  ?  " 

"  A  shark,  for  sarten.     Did  n't  I  tell  ye  ?     Look  yonder 
Two  o'  them,  as  I  live ;  and  the  biggest  kind  they  be.    Slash 
my  timbers  if  I  iver  see  such  a  pair !     They  have  fins  like 
lug-sails.     Look !  the  pilot 's  gone  to  guide  'em.     Hang  me 
if  they  bean't  a  comin'  this  way ! " 

William  had  looked  in  the  direction  pointed  out  by  his 
companion.  He  saw  the  two  great  dorsal  fins  standing  sev- 
eral feet  above  the  water.  He  knew  them  to  be  those  of  the 
white  shark:  for  he  had  already  seen  these  dreaded  monsters 
of  the  deep  on  more  than  one  occasion. 

It  was  true,  as  Ben  had  hurriedly  declared.  The  little 
pilot-fish,  after  coming  within  twenty  fathoms  of  the  raft,  had 
turned  suddenly  in  the  water,  and  gone  back  to  the  sharks ; 
and  now  it  was  seen  swimming  a  few  feet  in  advance  of  them, 
as  if  in  the  act  of  leading  them  on ! 

The  boy  was  struck  with  something  in  the  tone  of  his 
companion's  voice,  that  led  him  to  believe  there  was  danger 
in  the  proximity  of  these  ugly  creatures ;  and  to  say  the 
truth,  Ben  did  not  behold  them  without  a  certain  feeling  of 
alarm.  On  the  deck  of  a  ship  they  might  have  been  regarded 
without  any  fear ;  but  upon  a  frail  structure  like  that  which 
supported  the  castaways  —  their  feet  almost  on  a  level  with 
the  surface  of  the  water  —  it  was  not  so  very  improbable 
tlrat  the  sharks  might  attack  them ! 

In  his  experience  the  sailor  had  known  cases  of  a  similar 
kind.  It  was  no  matter  of  surprise,  that  he  should  feel 
uneasiness  at  their  approach,  if  not  actual  fear. 

But  there  was  no  time  left  either  for  him  to  speculate  as 
to  the  probabilities  of  such  an  attack,  or  for  his  companion  to 
question  him  about  them. 

Scarcely  had  the  last  words  parted  from  his  lips,  when  the 
foremont  of  the  two  sharks  was  ?wn  to  lash  the  water  with 


36  THE  OCEAN   WAIFS. 

its  broa/d  forked  tail,  —  and  then  coming  on  with  a  rush, H 
struck  the  raft  with  such  a  force  as  almost  to  capsize  it. 

The  other  shark  shot  forward  in  a  similar  manner ;  but 
glancing  a  little  to  one  side,  caught  in  its  huge  mouth  the 
end  of  the  dolphin-striker,  grinding  off  a  large  piece  of  the 
spar  as  if  it  had  been  cork-wood ! 

This  it  swallowed  almost  instantaneously  ;  and  then  turn- 
ing once  more  in  the  water  appeared  intent  upon  renewing 
the  attack. 

Ben  and  the  boy  had  dropped  their  hooks  and  lines,  — 
the  former  instinctively  arming  himself  with  the  axe,  while 
the  latter  seized  upon  the  spare  handspike.  Both  stood  ready 
to  receive  the  second  charge  of  the  enemy. 

It  was  made  almost  on  the  instant.  The  shark  that  had 
j  ist  attacked  was  the  first  to  return ;  and  coming  on  with 
the  velocity  of  an  arrow,  it  sprang  clear  above  the  surface, 
projecting  its  hideous  jaws  over  the  edge  of  the  raft. 

For  a  moment  the  frail  structure  was  in  danger  of  being 
either  capsized  or  swamped  altogether,  and  then  the  fate  of 
its  occupants  would  undoubtedly  have  been  to  become  "  food 
for  sharks." 

But  it  was  not  the  intention  of  Ben  Brace  or  his  youthful 
comrade  to  yield  up  their  lives  without  striking  a  blow  in 
self-defence,  and  that  given  by  the  sailor  at  once  disembar- 
rassed him  of  his  antagonist 

Throwing  one  arm  around  a  mast,  in  order  to  steady  him- 
self, and  raising  the  light  axe  in  the  other,  he  struck  outward 
and  downward  with  all  his  might.  The  blade  of  the  axe, 
guided  with  an  unswerving  arm,  fell  right  upon  the  snout  of 
the  shark,  just  midway  between  its  nostrils,  cleaving  the  car- 
tilaginous flesh  to  the  depth  of  several  inches,  and  laying  it 
open  to  the  bones. 

There  could  not  have  been  chosen  a  more  vital  part  upon 
which  to  inflict  a  wound ;  for,  huge  as  is  the  white  shark, 
and  strong  and  vigorous  as  are  all  animals  of  this  ferocious 


THE  PILOT-FISH.  87 

family,  a  single  blow  upon  the  nose  with  a  handspike  or  even 
a  billet  of  wood,  if  laid  on  with  a  heavy  hand,  will  suffice  to 
put  an  end  to  their  predatory  courses. 

And  so  was  it  with  the  shark  struck  by  the  axe  of  Ben 
Brace.  As  soon  as  the  blow  had  been  administered,  the 
creature  rolled  over  on  its  back ;  and  after  a  fluke  or  two 
with  its  great  forked  tail,  and  a  tremulous  shivering  through 
its  body,  it  lay  floating  upon  the  water  motionless  as  a  log 
of  wood. 

William  was  not  so  fortunate  with  his  antagonist,  though 
he  had  succeeded  in  keeping  it  off.  Striking  wildly  out  with 
the  handspike  in  a  horizontal  direction,  he  had  poked  the 
butt  end  of  the  implement  right  between  the  jaws  of  the 
monster,  just  as  it  raised  its  head  over  the  raft  with  the 
mouth  wide  open. 

The  shark,  seizing  the  handspike  in  its  treble  row  of  teeth, 
with  one  shake  of  its  head  whipped  it  out  of  the  boy's  hands : 
and  then  rushing  on  through  the  water,  was  seen  grinding 
the  timber  into  small  fragments,  and  swallowing  it  as  if  it 
had  been  so  many  crumbs  of  bread  or  pieces  of  meat. 

In  a  few  seconds  not  a  bit  of  the  handspike  could  be  seen, 
—  save  some  trifling  fragments  of  the  fibrous  wood  that 
floated  on  the  surface  of  the  water ;  but  what  gave  greater 
gratification  to  those  who  saw  them,  was  the  fact  that  the 
shark  which  had  thus  made  "  mince-meat "  of  the  piece  of 
timber  was  itself  no  longer  to  be  seen. 

Whether  because  it  had  satisfied  the  cravings  of  its  appe 
tite  by  that  wooden  banquet,  or  whether  it  had  taken  ths 
alarm  at  witnessing  the  fate  of  its  companion,  —  by  much  the 
larger  of  the  two,  —  was  a  question  of  slight  importance  either 
to  Ben  Brace  or  to  William.  For  whatever  reason,  and 
under  any  circumstances,  they  were  but  too  well  pleased  to 
IK-  disembarrassed  of  its  hideous  presence  ;  and  as  they  came 
to  the  conclusion  that  it  had  gone  off  for  good,  and  ?aw  the 
other  one  lying  with  its  white  belly  turned  upw  tirds  upon  tb« 


58  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

surface  of  the  water  —  evidently  dead  as  a  herring  —  they 
could  no  longer  restrain  their  voices,  but  simultaneously 
raised  them  in  a  shout  of  victory. 


CHAPTER    XI. 

A   LENTEN   DINNER. 

THE  shark  struck  upon  the  snout,  though  killed  by  th« 
blow,  continued  to  float  near  the  surface  of  the  water 
its  fins  still  in  motion  as  if  in  the  act  of  swimming. 

One  unacquainted  with  the  habits  of  these  sea-monster? 
might  have  supposed  that  it  still  lived,  and  might  yet  contrive 
to  escape.  Not  so  the  sailor,  Ben  Brace.  Many  score  of 
its  kind  had  Ben  coaxed  to  take  a  bait,  and  afterwards  helped 
to  haul  over  the  gangway  of  a  ship  and  cut  to  pieces  upon 
the  deck ;  and  Ben  knew  as  much  about  the  habits  of  these 
voracious  creatures  as  any  sailor  that  ever  crossed  the  wide 
ocean,  and  much  more  than  any  naturalist  that  never  did.  He 
had  seen  a  shark  drawn  aboard  with  a  great  steel  hook  in  its 
stomach,  —  he  had  seen  its  belly  ripped  up  with  a  jack-knife, 
the  whole  of  the  intestines  taken  out,  then  once  more  thrown 
into  the  sea;  and  after  all  this  rough  handling  he  had  seen 
the  animal  not  only  move  its  fins,  but  actually  swim  off  some 
distance  from  the  ship !  He  knew,  moreover,  that  a  shark 
may  be  cut  in  twain,  —  have  the  head  separated  from  the 
body,  —  and  still  exhibit  signs  of  vitality  in  both  parts  for 
many  hours  after  the  dismemberment !  Talk  of  the  killing  of  a 
cat  or  an  eel !  —  a  shark  will  stand  as  much  killing  as  twenty 
cats  or  a  bushel  of  eels,  and  still  exhibit  symptoms  of  life. 

The  shark's  most  vulnerable  part  appears  to  be  'the  snout, 
—just  where  the  sailor  had  chosen  to  make  his  hit ;  and  • 


A  LENTEN  DINNER.  3S 

blow  delivered  there  with  an  axe,  or  even  a  handspike, 
usually  puts  a  termination  to  the  career  of  this  rapacious 
tyrant  of  the  great  deep. 

"  I  Ve  knocked  him  into  the  middle  o'  next  week,"  cried 
fien,  exultingly,  as  he  saw  the  shark  heel  over  on  its  side. 
*It  ain't  goin'  to  trouble  us  any  more.  Where's  the 
other'n?" 

"  Gons  out  that  way,"  answered  the  boy,  pointing  in  the 
direction  taken  by  the  second  and  smaller  of  the  two  sharks. 
"He  whipped  the  handspike  out  of  my  hands,  and  he's 
craunched  it  to  fragments.  See !  there  are  some  of  the  pieces 
floating  on  the  water ! " 

"  Lucky  you  let  go,  lad ;  else  he  might  ha'  pulled  you 
from  the  raft.  I  don't  think  he  '11  come  back  again  after  the 
reception  we  've  gi'ed  'em.  As  for  the  other,  it 's  gone  out 
o' its  senses.  Dash  my  buttons,  if 't aint  goin' to  sink !  Ha! 
I  must  hinder  that  Quick,  Will'm,  shy  me  that  piecr  o' 
sennit :  we  must  secure  him  'fore  he  gives  clean  up  and  goes 
to  the  bottom.  Talk  o'  catching  fish  wi'  hook  an'  line !  Aha ! 
This  beats  all  your  small  fry.  If  we  can  secure  it,  we'll 
have  fish  enough  to  last  us  through  the  longest  Lent.  There 
now !  keep  on  the  other  edge  of  the  craft  so  as  to  balance 
me.  So-so ! " 

While  the  sailor  was  giving  these  directions,  he  was  busy 
with  both  hands  in  forming  a  running-noose  on  one  end  cf 
the  sennit-cord,  which  William  on  the  instant  had  handed 
over  to  him.  It  was  but  the  work  of  a  moment  to  make  the 
noose ;  another  to  let  it  down  into  the  water ;  a  third  to  pass 
it  over  the  upper  jaw  of  the  shark ;  a  fourth  to  draw  it  taut, 
and  tighten  the  cord  around  the  creature's  teeth.  The  next 
thing  done  was  to  secure  the  other  end  of  the  sennit  to  the 
upright  oar;  and  the  carcass  of  the  shark  was  thus  kept 
afloat  near  the  surface  of  the  water. 

To  guard  against  a  possible  chance  of  the  creature's  recov- 
ery, Ben  once  more  laid  hold  of  the  axe ;  and,  leaning  ovel 


40  THE   OCEAN  WAIFS. 

the  edge  of  the  raft,  administered  a  series  of  smart  blowi 
upon  its  snout.  He  continued  hacking  away,  until  the  upper 
jaw  of  the  fish  exhibited  the  appearance  of  a  butcher's  chop- 
ping-block  ;  and  there  was  no  longer  any  doubt  of  the  crea- 
ture being  as  "  dead  as  a  herring." 

u  Now,  Will'm,"  said  the  shark-killer,  "  this  time  we  've 
got  a  fish  that  '11  gi'e  us  a  fill,  lad.  Have  a  little  patience, 
and  1  '11  cut  ye  a  steak  from  the  tenderest  part  o'  his  body ; 
and  that's  just  forrard  o'  the  tail.  You  take  hold  o'  the 
sinnet,  an'  pull  him  up  a  bit,  —  so  as  I  can  get  at  him." 

The  boy  did  as  directed ;  and  Ben,  once  more  bending 
over  the  edge  of  the  raft,  caught  hold  of  one  of  the  caudal 
fins,  and  with  his  knife  detached  a  large  flake  from  the  flank 
of  the  fish,  —  enough  to  make  an  ample  meal  for  both  of 
them. 

It  is  superfluous  to  say  that,  like  the  little  flying-fish,  the 
shark-meat  had  to  be  eaten  raw ;  but  to  men  upon  the  \erge 
of  starvation  there  is  no  inconvenience  in  this.  Indeed,  there 
are  many  tribes  of  South-Sea  Islanders  —  not  such  savage0 
either  —  who  habitually  eat  the  flesh  of  the  shark  —  both  tht 
blue  and  white  species  —  without  thinking  it  necessary  even 
to  warm  it  over  a  fire !  Neither  did  the  castaway  English 
sailor  nor  his  young  comrade  think  it  necessary.  Even  had 
a  fire  been  possible,  they  were  too  hungry  to  have  stayed  for 
the  process  of  cooking ;  and  both,  without  more  ado,  dined 
upon  raw  shark-meat. 

When  they  had  succeeded  in  satisfying  the  cravings  of 
hunger,  and  once  more  refreshed  themselves  with  a  draught 
from  their  extemporized  water-bag,  the  castaways  not  only 
felt  a  relief  from  actual  suffering,  but  a  sort  of  cheerful  con- 
fidence in  the  future.  This  arose  from  a  conviction  on  their 
part,  or  at  all  events  a  strong  impression,  that  the  hand  of 
Providence  had  been  stretched  out  to  their  assistance.  The 
flying-fish,  the  shower,  the  shark  may  have  been  accidents, 
it  IB  true ;  but,  occurring  at  such  a  time,  just  in  the  very 


A  LENTEN  DINNER.  -41 

crisis  ot  their  affliction,  they  were  accidents  that  had  the 
appearance  of  design,  —  design  on  the  part  of  Him  to  whom 
in  that  solemn  hour  they  hud  uplifted  their  voices  in  prayer. 

It  was  under  this  impression  that  their  spirits  became 
naturally  restored ;  and  once  more  they  began  to  take  coun- 
sel together  about  the  ways  and  means  of  prolonging  their 
existence. 

It  is  true  that  their  situation  was  still  desperate.  Should 
a  storm  spring  up,  —  even  an  ordinary  gale,  —  not  only  would 
their  canvas  water-cask  be  bilged,  and  its  contents  spilled  out 
to  mingle  with  the  briny  billow,  but  their  frail  embarkation 
would  be  in  danger  of  going  to  pieces,  or  of  being  whelmed 
fathoms  deep  under  the  frothing  waves.  In  a  high  latitude, 
either  north  or  south,  their  chance  of  keeping  afloat  would 
have  been  slight  indeed.  A  week,  or  rather  only  a  single 
day,  would  have  been  as  long  as  they  could  have  expected 
that  calm  to  continue ;  and  the  experienced  sailor  knew  well 
enough  that  anything  in  the  shape  of  a  storm  would  expose 
them  to  certain  destruction.  To  console  him  for  this  un- 
pleasant knowledge,  however,  he  also  knew  that  in  the 
ocean,  where  they  were  then  afloat,  storms  are  exceedingly 
rare,  and  that  ships  are  often  in  greater  danger  from  the 
very  opposite  state  of  the  atmosphere,  —  from  calms.  They 
were  in  that  part  of  the  Atlantic  Ocean  known  among  the 
early  Spanish  navigators  as  the  Horse  Latitudes,  —  so  called 
because  the  horses  at  that  time  being  carried  across  to  the 
New  World,  for  want  of  water  in  the  becalmed  ships,  died 
in  great  numbers,  and  being  thrown  overboard  were  often 
seen  floating  upon  the  surface  of  the  sea. 

A  prettier  and  more  poetical  name  have  these  same 
Spaniards  given  to  a  portion  of  the  same  Atlantic  Ocean,  — 
which,  from  the  gentleness  of  its  breezes,  they  have  styled 
"La  Mar  de  las  Damas"  (the  Ladies'  Sea). 

Ben  Brace  knew  that  in  the  Horse  Latitudes  storms  were 
of  rare  occurrence;  and  hence  the  hopefulness  with  which 
he  was  now  looking  forward  to  the  future. 


42  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

He  was  no  longer  inactive.  If  he  believed  in  the  special 
Interference  of  Providence,  he  also  believed  that  Providence 
would  expect  him  to  make  some  exertion  of  himself,  —  such 
w  circumstances  might  permit  and  require. 


CHAPTER    XIL 

FLENSING   A    SHARK. 

THE  flesh  of  the  shark,  and  the  stock  of  water  so  singu- 
larly obtained  and  so  deftly  stored  away,  might,  if 
properly  kept  and  carefully  used,  last  them  for  many  days ; 
and  to  .he  preservation  of  these  stores  the  thoughts  of  the 
sailor  ar>;i  his  young  companion  were  now  specially  directed. 

For  the  former  they  could  do  nothing  more  than  had  been 
already  done.  —  further  than  to  cover  the  tarpauling  that  con- 
tained it  with  several  folds  of  the  spare  sail-cloth,  in  order 
that  no  ray  of  the  sun  should  get  near  it.  This  precaution 
was  at  once  adopted. 

The  flesh  of  the  shark  —  now  dead  as  mutton  —  if  left  to 
itself,  would  soon  spoil,  and  be  unfit  for  food,  even  for  starv- 
ing men.  It  was  this  reflection  that  caused  the  sailor  and 
his  protege  to  take  counsel  together  as  to  what  might  be 
done  towards  preserving  it. 

They  were  not  long  in  coming  to  a  decision.  Shark-flesh, 
li  ke  that  of  any  other  fish  —  h'ke  haddock,  for  instance,  or  red 
herrings  —  can  be  dried  m  the  sun ;  and  the  more  readily  in 
that  sun  of  the  torrid  zone  that  shone  down  so  hotly  upon  their 
heads.  The  flesh  only  needed  to  be  cut  into  thin  slices  and 
suspended  from  the  upright  oars.  The  atmosphere  would 
Boon  do  the  rest.  Thus  cured,  it  would  keep  for  weeks  or 
months ;  and  thus  did  the  castaways  determine  to  cure  it. 


FLENSIN3  A  SHARK.  43 

No  sooiiei  was  the  plan  conceived,  than  they  entered  upon 
its  execution.  Little  William  again  seized  the  cord  of 
sennit,  and  drew  the  huge  carcass  close  up  to  the  raft ;  while 
Ben  once  more  opened  the  blade  of  his  sailor's  knife,  and 
aommenced  cutting  off  the  flesh  in  broad  flakes,  —  so  thin  as 
to  be  almost  transparent. 

He  had  succeeded  in  stripping  off  most  of  the  titbits 
around  the  tail,  and  was  proceeding  up  the  body  of  the  shark 
to  flense  it  in  a  similar  fashion,  when  an  ejaculation  escaped 
him,  expressing  surprise  or  pleasant  curiosity. 

Little  William  was  but  too  glad  to  perceive  the  pleased 
expression  on  the  countenance  of  his  companion,  —  of  late  se 
rarely  seen. 

*  What  is  it,  Ben  ?  "  he  inquired,  smilingly. 

"  Look  'ee  theer,  lad,"  rejoined  the  sailor,  placing  his  hand 
upon  the  back  of  the  boy's  head,  and  pressing  it  close  to  the 
edge  of  the  raft,  so  that  he  could  see  well  down  into  the 
water,  —  "  look  theer,  and  tell  me  what  you  see." 

u  Where  ?  "  asked  William,  still  ignorant  of  the  object  to 
which  his  attention  was  thus  forcibly  directed. 

"  Don't  you  see  somethin'  queery  stickin'  to  the  belly  6 
the  shark,  —  eh,  lad  ?  " 

"As  I  live,"  rejoined  William,  now  perceiving  "some- 
thin',  "  "  there 's  a  small  fish  pushing  his  head  against  the 
shark,  —  not  so  small  either,  —  only  in  comparison  with  the 
great  shark  himself.  It's  about  a  foot  long,  I  should  think, 
But  what  is  it  doing  in  that  odd  position  ?  " 

"  Sticking  to  the  shark,  —  did  n't  I  tell  'ee,  lad  ! " 

"  Sticking  to  the  shark?    You  don't  mean  that,  Ben  v" 

"  But  I  do  —  mean  that  very  thing,  boy.  It 's  as  fast 
theer  as  a  barnacle  to  a  ship's  copper ;  an'  '11  stay,  I  hope, 
till  I  get  my  claws  upon  it,  —  which  won't  take  very  long 
from  now.  Pass  a  piece  o'  <  ord  this  way.  Quick  . " 

The  boy  stretched  out  his  hand,  and,  getting  hold  of  a 
piece  of  loose  string,  reached  it  to  his  companion  Just  aa 


44  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

the  snare  had  been  made  for  the  shark  with  the  piece  of 
sennit,  and  with  like  rapidity,  a  noose  was  constructed  on 
the  string;  and,  having  been  lowered  into  the  water,  was 
passed  around  the  body  of  the  little  fish  which  appeared 
adhering  to  the  belly  of  the  shark.  Not  only  did  it  so  ap- 
pear, but  it  actually  was,  as  was  proved  by  the  pull  neces- 
sary to  detach  it,  and  which  required  all  the  strength  ;hat 
lay  in  the  strong  arms  of  the  sailor. 

He  succeeded,  however,  in  effecting  his  purpose ;  and  with 
a  pluck  the  parasite  fish  was  separated  from  the  skin  to 
which  it  had  been  clinging,  and,  jerked  upwards,  was  landed 
alive  and  kicking  upon  the  raft. 

Its  kicking  was  not  allowed  to  continue  for  long.  Lest  it 
might  leap  back  into  the  water,  and,  sluggish  swimmer  as  it 
was,  escape  out  of  reach,  Ben,  with  the  knife  which  he  still 
held  unclasped  in  his  hand,  pinned  it  to  one  of  the  planks, 
and  in  an  instant  terminated  its  existence. 

u  What  sort  of  a  fish  is  it  ?  "  asked  William,  as  he  looked 
upon  the  odd  creature  thus  oddly  obtained. 

"  Suckin'-fish,"  was  Ben's  laconic  answer. 

u  A  sucking-fish !  I  never  heard  of  one  before.  Why  [a 
it  so  called  ? " 

"  Because  it  sucks,"  replied  the  sailor. 

«  Sucks  what  ?  " 

"  Sharks.  Did  n't  you  see  it  suckin'  at  this  'un  afore  I 
pulled  it  from  the  teat  ?  Ha !  ha  !  ha  ! " 

"  Surely  it  was  n't  that,  Ben  ?  "  said  the  lad,  mystified  by 
Ben's  remark. 

"  Well,  boy.  I  an'f,  going  to  bamboozle  ye.  All  I  know  ia 
that  it  fastens  onto  sharks,  and  only  this  sort,  which  are 
called  white  sharks  ;  for  I  never  seed  it  sticking  to  any  o*  the 
others,  —  of  which  there  be  several  kinds.  As  to  its  suckin1 
anythin'  out  o'  them  an'  livin'  by  that,  I  don't  believe  a  word 
o'  it ;  though  they  say  it  do  so,  and  that 's  what 's  given  it  its 
name.  Why  I  don't  believe  it  is,  because  I  've  seed  th.? 


FLENSING  A  SHARK.  45 

ereature  stickin'  just  the  same  way  to  the  coppered  bottom  o 
a  ship,  and  likewise  to  the  sides  o'  rocks  under  the  water. 
Now,  it  could  n't  get  anything  out  o'  the  copper  to  live  upon, 
DOT  yet  out  o'  a  rock,  —  could  it  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not." 

"  Then  it  could  n't  be  a  suckin'  them.  Besides,  I  've  seed 
the  stomachs  o'  several  cut  open,  and  they  were  full  of  little 
water-creepers,  —  such  as  there 's  thousands  o'  kinds  in  the 
sea.  I  warrant  if  we  rip  this  'un  up  the  belly,  we  '11  find  thr 
same  sort  o'  food  in  it." 

u  And  why  does  it  fasten  itself  to  sharks  and  ships,  —  can 
you  tell  that,  Ben  ?  " 

"  I  ve  heerd  the  reason,  and  it  be  sensible  enough,  —  more 
so  than  to  say  that  it  sucks.  There  was  a  doctor  as  belonged 
in  the  man-o'-war  where  I  sarved  for  two  years,  as  was 
larned  in  all  such  curious  things.  He  said  that  the  suckin'- 
fish  be  a  bad  swimmer ;  and  that  I  know  myself  (o  be  true. 
You  can  tell  by  the  smallness  o'  its  fins.  Well,  the  doctor, 
he  say,  it  fastens  on  to  the  sharks  and  ships  so  as  to  get 
carried  from  place  to  place,  and  to  the  rocks  to  rest  itself. 
Whenever  it  takes  a  notion,  it  can  slip  off,  and  go  a  huntin' 
for  its  prey ;  and  then  come  back  again  and  take  a  fresh  grip 
on  whatever  it  has  chosen  to  lodge  itself." 

"  It 's  that  curious  thing  along  the  back  of  its  head  that 
enables  it  to  hold  on,  is  n't  it  ?  " 

"  That's  its  sticking-machine ;  and,  what  be  curious,  Will'm, 
if  you  were  to  try  to  pull  it  off  upwards  or  backwards  you 
could  n't  do  it  wi'  all  your  strength,  nor  I  neither :  you  must 
shove  it  forrard,  as  you  seed  me  do  just  now,  or  else  pull  it 
to  pieces  before  it  would  come  off." 

"  I  can  see,"  said  William,  holding  the  fish  up  to  his  ryes, 
*  that  there  are  rows  of  little  teeth  in  that  queer  top-knot  it's 
got,  all  turned  towards  the  tail.  It  is  they,  I  suppose,  thai 
prevent  its  slipping  backwards  ?  " 

c  No  doubt,  lad,  —  no  doubt  it  be  that.     But  never  mind 


46  THE   OCEAX    WAIFS. 

what  it  be  just  now.  Let  us  finish  flensin'  o'  the  shark ;  and 
then  if  we  feel  hungry  we  can  make  a  meal  o'  the  sucker,  — 
for  I  can  tell  you  it 's  the  best  kind  o'  eatin'.  I  Ve  ate  'em 
often  in  the  South  Sea  Islands,  where  the  natives  catch  'em 
with  hooks  and  lines ;  but  I  've  seen  them  there  much  bigger 
than  this  'un,  —  three  feet  long,  and  more." 

And  so  saying,  the  sailor  returned  to  the  operation,  thus 
temporarily  suspended,  —  the  flensing  of  the  shark. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

THE    SUCKING-FISH. 

fin  HE  fish  that  had  thus  singularly  fallen  into  their  hands 
JL  was,  as  Ben  had  stated,  the  sucking-fish,  Echeneis  re- 
mora,  —  one  of  the  most  curious  creatures  that  inhabit  the 
sea.  Not  so  much  from  any  peculiarity  in  appearance  aa 
from  the  singularity  of  its  habits. 

Its  appearance,  however,  is  sufficiently  singular ;  and 
looking  upon  it,  one  might  consider  the  creature  as  being 
well  adapted  for  keeping  company  with  the  ferocious  tyrant 
of  the  deep,  on  whom  it  constantly  attends. 

Its  body  is  black  and  smooth,  its  head  of  a  hideous  form, 
and  its  fins  short  and  broadly  spread.  The  mouth  is  very 
large,  with  the  lower  jaw  protruding  fai  beyohd  the  upper, 
and  it  is  this  that  gives  to  it  the  cast  o  feature,  if  we  may 
be  permitted  to  speak  of  "  features  "  in  <i  fish. 

Both  lips  and  jaws  are  amply  provided  with  teeth;  and 
the  throat,  palate,  and  tongue  are  sev,  profusely  with  short 
spines.  The  eyes  are  dark,  and  set  hij»h  up.  The  "  sucker  " 
or  buckler  upon  the  top  of  its  head  consists  of  a  number  of 
bony  plates,  set  side  by  side,  so  as  tt,  form  an  oval  disc,  and 


THE  SUCKLNG-JISH.  47 

armed  along  the  edges  with  little  tentacles,  or  teeth,  as  the 
boy  William  had  observed. 

His  companion's  account  of  the  creature  was  perfectly 
correct,  so  far  as  it  went ;  but  there  are  many  other  points 
in  its  "  history "  quite  as  curious  as  those  which  the  sailor 
had  communicated. 

The  fish  has  neither  swim-bladder  nor  sound;  and  as, 
moreover,  its  fins  are  of  the  feeblest  kind,  it  is  probably  on 
this  account  that  it  has  been  gifted  with  the  power  of  adher- 
ing to  other  floating  bodies,  by  way  of  compensation  for  thfl 
above-named  deficiencies.  The  slow  and  prowling  move- 
ments of  the  white  shark,  render  it  particularly  eligible  foi 
the  purposes  of  the  sucking-fish,  either  as  a  resting-place  01 
a  means  of  conveyance  from  place  to  place ;  and  it  is  well- 
known  that  the  shark  is  usually  attended  by  several  of  these 
singular  satellites.  Other  floating  objects,  however,  are  used 
by  the  sucking-fish,  —  such  as  pieces  of  timber,  the  keel  of  a 
ship ;  and  it  even  rests  itself  against  the  sides  of  submerged 
rocks,  as  the  sailor  had  stated.  It  also  adheres  to  whales, 
turtles,  and  the  larger  kinds  of  albacore. 

Its  food  consists  of  shrimps,  marine  insects,  fragments  of 
molluscous  animals,  and  the  like  ;  but  it  obtains  no  nutriment 
through  the  sucking-apparatus,  nor  does  it  in  any  way  injure 
the  animal  to  which  it  adheres.  It  only  makes  use  of  the 
sucker  at  intervals ;  at  other  times,  swimming  around  the 
object  it  attends,  and  looking  out  for  prey  of  its  own  choice, 
and  on  its  own  account.  While  swimming  it  propels  itself 
by  rapid  lateral  movements  of  the  tail,  executed  awkwardly 
and  with  a  tortuous  motion. 

It  is  itself  preyed  upon  by  other  fish,  —  diodons  and  alba- 
cores  ;  but  the  shark  is  merciful  to  it,  as  to  the  pilot-fish,  and 
never  interferes  with  it. 

Sucking-fish  are  occasionally  seen  of  a  pure  white  color 
associating  with  the  black  ones,  and  also  attending  upon  the 
shark.  They  are  supposed  to  be  merely  varieties  or  albinoi. 


48  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

When  sharks  are  hooked  and  drawn  on  board  a  ship,  the 
Bucking-fishes  that  have  been  swimming  around  them  will 
remain  for  (lays,  and  even  weeks,  following  the  vessel  through- 
out all  her  courses.  Th^y  can  then  be  taken  by  a  hook  and 
line,  baited  with  a  piece  of  flesh;  and  they  will  seize  the 
bait  when  let  down  in  the  stillest  water.  In  order  to  secure 
them,  however,  it  is  necessary,  after  they  have  been  hooked, 
to  jerk  them  quickly  out  of  the  water ;  else  they  will  swim 
rapidly  to  the  side  of  the  ship,  and  fix  their  sucker  so  firmiv 
against  the  wood,  as  to  defy  every  attempt  to  dislodge  them. 

There  are  two  well-known  species  of  sucking-fish,  —  the 
common  one  described,  and  another  of  larger  size,  found  in 
the  Pacific,  the  Echeneis  australis.  The  latter  is  a  better 
shaped  fish  than  its  congene-r,  can  swim  more  rapidly,  and  is 
altogether  of  a  more  active  habit. 

Perhaps  the  most  interesting  fact  in  the  history  of  the 
Echeneis  is  its  being  the  same  fish  as  that  known  to  the 
Spanish  navigators  as  the  remora,  and  which  was  found  by 
Columbus  in  possession  of  the  natives  of  Cuba  and  Jamaica, 
tamed,  and  trained  to  the  catching  of  turtles  ! 

Their  mode  of  using  it  was  by  attaching  a  cord  of  palm 
sennit  to  a  ring  already  fastened  round  the  tail,  at  the  small- 
est part  between  the  ventral  and  caudal  fins.  It  was  then 
allowed  to  swim  out  into  the  sea ;  while  the  other  end  of 
the  cord  was  tied  to  a  tree,  or  made  fast  to  a  rock  upon  the 
beach.  The  remora  being  thus  set  —  just  as  one  would  set 
a  baited  hook  —  was  left  free  to  follow  its  own  inclinations, 
—  which  usually  were  to  fasten  its  sucking-plates  against  the 
shell  of  one  of  the  great  sea-turtles,  —  so  famed  at  aldermanic 
feasts  and  prized  by  modern  gourmets,  and  equally  relished 
by  the  ancient  Cuban  caciques, 

At  intervals,  the  turtle-catcher  would  look  to  his  line  ;  and 
when  the  extra  strain  upon  it  proved  that  the  remora  was 
en  rapport  with  a  turtle,  he  would  haul  in,  until  the  huge 
chelonian  was  brought  within  striking  distance  of  his  heavj 
club;  ari  thus  would  the  capture  be  effected. 


A  SAIL  OF  SHARK-FLESH.  49 

Turtles  of  many  hundreds'  weight  could  be  taken  iu  this 
w&j ;  for  the  pull  upon  the  remora  being  towards  the  tail,  — 
and  therefore  in  a  backward  direction,  —  the  sucking-fish 
could  not  be  detached,  unless  by  the  most  violent  straining. 

It  is  a  fact  of  extreme  singularity,  that  a  similar  method 
of  capturing  turtles  is  practised  ori  the  coast  of  M^ambique 
at  the  present  day,  and  by  a  people  who  never  could  have 
had  any  communication  with  the  aborigines  of  the  West 
Indian  Islands,  much  less  have  learnt  from  them  this  curious 
craft  of  angling  with  a  fish ! 

A  smaller  species  of  the  sucking-fish  is  found  in  the  Medi- 
terranean,—  the  Echeneis  remora.  It  was  well  known  to 
the  ancient  writers ;  though,  like  most  creatures  gifted  with 
any  peculiarity,  it  was  oftener  the  subject  of  fabulous  romance 
than  real  history.  It  was  supposed  to  have  the  power  of 
arresting  the  progress  of  a  ship,  by  attaching  itself  to  the 
keel  and  pulling  in  a  contrary  direction !  A  still  more  ridic- 
ulous virtue  was  attributed  to  it :  in  the  belief  that,  if  any 
criminal  in  dread  of  justice  could  only  succeed  in  inducing 
the  judge  to  partake  of  a  portion  of  its  flesh,  he  would  be 
able  to  obtain  a  long  delay  before  the  judge  could  pronout  e 
the  verdict  of  his  condemnation ! 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

A    SAIL    OF    SHARK-FLESH. 

IT  wanted  but  a  little  while  of  sunset,  when  the  sailor  and 
his  young  comrade  had  finished  flensing  the  shark.    The 
raft  now  exhibited  quite  an  altered  appearance-     BetweT 
the   two   upright   oars   several    pieces    of  rope   had   been 
stretched  transversely,  and  from  these  hung  suspended  th« 


50  THE  OCEAN   WAIFS. 

broad  thin  flitches  of  the  shark's  flesh,  tLat  at  a  distance 
might  have  been  mistaken  for  some  sort  of  a  sail.  Indeed, 
they  acted  as  such ;  for  their  united  discs  presented  a  con- 
fiiderable  breadth  of  surface  to  the  breeze,  which  had  sprung 
up  as  the  evening  approached,  and  the  raft  by  this  means 
moved  through  the  water  with  considerable  rapidity. 

There  was  no  effort  made  to  steer  it.  The  idea  of  reaching 
land  was  entirely  out  of  the  question.  Their  only  hope  of 
salvation  lay  in  their  being  seen  from  a  ship ;  and  as  a  ship 
was  as  likely  to  come  from  one  direction  as  another,  it  mat- 
tered not  to  which  of  the  thirty-two  points  of  the  compass 
their  raft  might  be  drifting.  Yes,  it  did  matter.  So  thought 
Ben  Brace,  on  reflection. 

It  might  be  of  serious  consequence,  should  the  raft  make 
way  to  the  westward.  Somewhere  in  that  direction  —  how 
far  neither  could  guess  —  that  greater  raft,  with  its  crew  of 
desperate  ruffians,  —  those  drunken  would-be  cannibals,  — 
must  be  drifting  about,  like  themselves,  at  the  mercy  of 
winds  and  waves :  perhaps  more  than  themselves  suffering 
the  dire  extreme  of  thirst  and  hunger.  Perhaps,  ere  then. 
One  of  their  own  number  may  have  been  forced  to  submit  to 
the  horrid  fate  which  they  had  designed  for  little  William ; 
and  which,  but  for  the  interference  of  his  generous*  protector, 
would  most  certainly  have  befallen  him. 

Should  he  again  fall  into  their  clutches,  there  would  be 
but  slight  chance  of  a  second  escape.  His  protector  knew 
that.  Ben  knew,  moreover,  that  his  own  life  would  be  equally 
sure  of  being  sacrificed  to  the  resentment  of  the  ribald  crew> 
with  whom  he  had  formerly  associated. 

No  wonder,  as  he  felt  the  breeze  blowing  on  his  jheuk, 
that  he  looked  towards  the  setting  sun,  to  ascertain  in  what 
direction  the  raft  was  being  borne.  No  wonder  that  hi« 
anxious  glance  became  changed  to  a  look  of  satisfaction, 
when  he  perceived  that  they  were  moving  eastward. 

"  To  the  east'ard  it  are,  sure  enough,"  said  he,  u  and  tha 


A   SAIL  OF  SHARK-FLESH.  ft! 

6e  curiouu  too.  'T  an't  often  I  Ve  see'd  the  wind  blow  from 
the  west'ard  in  these  latitudes.  Only  another  catspaw  in 
the  middle  o'  the  calm.  'T  won't  last  long ;  though  it  won't 
matter,  so  long 's  it  don't  turn  and  blow  us  t'  other  way." 

The  expressed  wish  not  to  be  blown  "  t'  other  way  "  needed 
no  explanation.  William  understood  what  that  meant.  The 
fearful  scene  of  the  preceding  day  was  fresh  in  his  memory. 
That  scene,  where  half  a  score  of  fiend-like  monsters,  threat- 
ening his  life,  were  kept  at  bay  by  one  heroic  man,  —  that 
was  a  tableau  too  terrible  to  be  soon  forgotten. 

Nor  had  he  forgotten  it,  even  for  a  moment.  Perhaps, 
during  that  brief  conflict  with  the  sharks,  the  nearer  danger 
may  have  driven  it  for  an  interval  out  of  his  mind ;  but  that 
over,  the  dread  remembrance  returned  again ;  and  every 
now  and  then,  —  even  while  engaged  in  the  varied  labors 
that  had  occupied  them  throughout  the  day,  —  in  a  sort  of 
waking  dream  he  had  recalled  that  fearful  vision.  Often  — 
every  few  minutes  in  fact  —  had  his  eyes  been  turned  invol- 
untarily towards  the  west,  —  where,  instead  of  looking  hope- 
fully for  a  ship,  his  anxious  glance  betrayed  a  fear  that  any 
dark  object  might  be  seen  in  that  direction. 

On  finishing  their  task,  both  were  sufficiently  fatigued,  — 
the  strong  sailor  as  well  as  his  feebler  companion.  The 
former  still  kept  his  feet,  anxiously  scanning  the  horizon; 
while  the  latter  laid  himself  along  the  bare  boards  of  the 
raft. 

"  Little  Will'm,"  said  the  sailor,  looking  down  at  the  boy, 
and  speaking  in  gentle  tones,  "  you  'd  better  spread  the  sail 
under  ye,  and  get  some  sleep.  There  be  no  use  in  both  o' 
m  keeping  awake.  I'll  watch  till  it  gets  dark,  an'  then  I'll 
join  you.  Go  to  sleep,  lad !  go  to  sleep ! " 

William  was  too  wearied  to  make  objection.  Drawing  the 
skirt  of  the  sail  over  the  raft,  he  lay  down  upon  it,  and  found 
Jeep  almost  as  soon  is  he  had  composed  himself  ii  <o  tlM 
attitude  to  enjoy  it. 


52  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

The  sailor  remained  standing  erect;  now  sweeping  Ihe 
horizon  with  his  glance,  now  bending  his  eye  restlessly  upot 
the  water  as  it  rippled  along  the  edge  of  the  raft,  and  again 
returning  to  that  distant  scrutiny,  —  so  oft  repeated,  so  oft 
unrewarded. 

Thus  occupied,  he  passed  the  interval  of  twilight,  —  short 
in  these  latitudes ;  nor  did  he  terminate  his  vigil  until  dark- 
ness had  descended  upon  the  deep. 

It  promised  to  be  a  dark,  moonless  night.  Only  a  few 
feebly  gleaming  stars,  thinly  scattered  over  the  firmament, 
enabled  him  to  distinguish  the  canopy  of  the  sky  from  the 
waste  of  waters  that  surrounded  him.  E^en  a  ship  under 
full  spread  of  canvas  could  not  have  been  seen,  though  pass- 
ing at  a  cable's  length  from  the  raft. 

It  was  idle  to  continue  the  dreary  vigil ;  and  having  arrived 
at  this  conviction,  the  sailor  stretched  himself  alongside  his 
slumbering  companion,  and,  like  the  latter,  was  soon  relieved 
from  his  long-protracted  anxiety  by  the  sweet  oblivion  of 
sleep. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

THE   MYSTERIOUS    VOICE. 

FOR  several  hours  both  remained  wrapped  in  slumber, 
oblivious  of  the  perils  through  which  they  had  passed, 
—  equally  unconscious  of  the  dangers  that  surrounded  and 
«till  lay  before  them. 

What  a  picture  was  there,  —  with  no  human  eye  to  behold 
it!  Two  human  forms,  a  sailor  and  a  sailor-boy,  lying 
side  by  side  upon  a  raft  scarce  twice  the  length  of  their  own 
bodies,  in  the  midst  of  a  vast  ocean,  landless  and  limitless 
as  infinity  itsel£  both  softly  and  soundly  asleep,  —  as  if  re- 


THE  MYSTERIOUS  VOICE  53 

|»osing  jpon  the  pillow  of  some  secure  couch,  with  the  firm 
earth  beneath  and  a  friendly  roof  extended  over  them !  Ah, 
it  was  a  striking  tableau,  that  frail  craft  with  its  sleeping 
crew,  —  such  a  spectacle  as  is  seldom  seen  by  human  eye ! 

It  was  fortunate  that  for  many  hours  they  continued  to 
enjoy  the  sweet  unconsciousness  of  sleep,  —  if  such  may  be 
termed  enjoyment.  It  was  long  after  midnight  before  either 
awoke :  for  there  was  nothing  to  awake  them.  The  breeze 
had  kept  gentle,  and  constant  in  the  same  quarter ;  and  the 
slight  noise  made  by  the  water,  as  it  went  "  swishing  "  along 
the  edge  of  the  raft,  instead  of  rousing  them  acted  rather  as 
a  lullaby  to  their  rest 

The  boy  awoke  first.  He  had  been  longer  asleep ;  and 
his  nervous  system,  refreshed  and  restored  to  its  normal  con- 
dition, had  become  more  keenly  sensitive  to  outward  impres- 
sions. Some  big,  cold  rain-drops  falling  upon  his  face  had 
recalled  him  to  wakefulness. 

Was  it  spray  tossed  up  by  the  spars  ploughing  through 
the  water? 

No.  It  was  rain  from  the  clouds.  The  canopy  overhead 
was  black  as  ink ;  but  while  the  lad  was  scrutinizing  it,  a 
gleam  of  lightning  suddenly  illumined  both  sea  and  sky,  and 
then  all  was  dark  as  before. 

Little  William  would  have  restored  his  cheek  to  its  sail- 
cloth pillow  and  gone  to  sleep  again.  He  was  not  dismayed 
by  the  silent  lightning,  —  for  it  was  that  sort  that  had  flickered 
over  tA  sky.  No  more  did  he  mind  the  threatening  rain- 
clouds.  His  shirt  had  been  soaked  too  often,  by  showers 
from  the  sky  and  spray  from  the  sea,  for  him  to  have  any 
dread  of  a  ducking. 

It  was  not  that,  —  neither  the  presence  of  the  lightning  nor 
the  prospect  of  the  rain,  —  that  kept  him  awake  ;  but  some- 
thing he  had  heard,  —  or  fancied  he  had  heard,  —  something 
that  not  only  restrained  him  from  returning  tc  repose,  but 
inspired  him  with  a  fear  that  robbed  him  of  a  1  inclins  tion 
to  go  to  sleep  again. 


54  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

What  was  it  he  had  heard  or  fancied?  A  noise, — a 
voice  ! 

Was  it  the  scream  of  the  seamew,  the  shriek  of  the 
frigate-bird,  or  the  hoarse  note  of  the  nelly  ? 

None  of  these.  The  boy-sailor  was  acquainted  with  the 
cries  of  all  three,  and  of  many  other  sea-birds  besides.  It 
was  not  the  call  of  a  bird  that  had  fallen  so  unexpectedly  on 
his  ear,  but  a  note  of  far  different  intonation.  It  more  resem- 
bled a  voice,  —  a  human  voice,  —  the  voice  of  a  child !  Not 
of  a  very  young  child,  —  an  infant,  —  but  more  like  that  of 
a  girl  of  eight  or  ten  years  of  age ! 

Nor  was  it  a  cry  of  distress,  though  uttered  in  a  melan- 
choly tone.  It  seemed  to  the  ear  of  the  lad  —  freshly  awak- 
ened from  his  sleep  —  like  words  spoken  in  conversation. 

But  it  could  not  be  what  he  had  taken  it  for !  Improbable, 
—  impossible !  He  had  been  deluded  by  a  fancy ;  or  it 
might  be  the  mutterings  of  some  ocean  bird  with  whose  note 
he  was  unacquainted. 

Should  he  awake  his  companion  and  tell  him  of  it  ?  A 
pity,  if  it  should  prove  to  be  nothing,  or  only  the  chattering 
»r  a  sea-gull.  His  brave  protector  had  need  of  rest.  Ben 
would  not  be  angry  to  be  awaked ;  but  the  sailor  would  be 
sure  to  laugh  at  him  if  he  were  to  say  he  had  heard  a  little 
girl  talking  at  that  time  of  night  in  the  middle  of  the  Atlantic 
Ocean.  Perhaps  Ben  might  say  it  was  a  mermaid,  and 
mock  him  in  that  sort  of  style  ? 

No :  he  would  not  run  the  risk  of  being  ridiculed,  even  by 
his  best  of  friends.  Better  let  the  thing  pass,  and  say  nothing 
about  it. 

Little  William  had  arrived  at  this  resolution,  and  had 
more  than  half  determined  to  treat  the  sound  he  had  heard 
as  an  aurical  delusion.  He  had  even  replaced  his  cheek 
upon  the  sail-cloth  pillow,  when  the  very  same  sound  again 
f^l  upon  his  ear,  —  this  time  more  distinctly  heard,  as  if 
either  the  utterance  had  been  clearer  or  the  being  that  mada 
it  was  nearer! 


THE  MYSTERIOUS  VOICE.  55 

If  it  was  not  the  voice  of  a  girl,  —  a  very  young  girl,  — • 
then  the  boy-sailor  had  never  listened  to  the  prattling  of  hia 
younger  sister,  or  the  conversation  of  his  little  female  play- 
mates. If  it  was  a  young  mermaid,  then  most  assuredly 
could  mermaids  talk :  for  the  sound  was  exactly  like  a  string 
or  series  of  words  uttered  in  conversation ! 

Ben  must  be  aroused  from  his  slumber.  It  could  not  be 
an  illusion.  Either  a  talking  mermaid,  or  a  little  girl,  was 
within  earshot  of  the  raft. 

There  was  no  help  for  it.     Ben  must  be  aroused. 

«  Ben  !  Ben  ! " 

"  Ho —  hah  —  ow  —  aw  —  what 's  the  row  ? — seven  bells. 
I  bean't  on  the  dog-watch.  Hi,  hi,  oh !  it 's  you,  little  Will'm. 
What  is 't,  lad?" 

"  Ben,  I  hear  something." 

"Hear  somethin'!  Well,  what  o' that,  boy?  Theer's 
allers  somethin'  to  be  heerd :  even  here,  in  the  middle  o'  the 
Atlantic.  Ah !  boy,  I  was  dreamin'  a  nice  dream  when  ye 
woke  me.  I  thought  I  war  back  on  the  ole  frigate.  'T  wa'n't 
so  nice,  eyther,  for  I  thought  the  bos'n  war  roustin*  me  up 
for  my  watch  on  deck.  Anyhow,  't  would  a  been  better  than 
this  watch  here.  Heerd  somethin',  ye  say?  What  d'ye 
mean,  little  Will'm  ?  " 

"  I  heard  a  voice,  Ben.     I  think  it  was  a  voice." 

"  Voice  —  o'  a  human,  do  ye  mean  ?  " 

"  It  sounded  like  that  of  a  little  girl." 

"  Voice  o'  a  little  girl !  Shiver  my  timbers,  lad,  you  're 
goin'  demented  !  Put  yer  face  close  to  mine.  Let  me  see 
ye,  boy !  Are  ye  in  yer  senses,  Will'm  ?  " 

"  I  am,  Ben.  I  'm  sure  I  heard  what  I  've  said.  Twice  I 
heaid  it.  The  first  time  I  was  n't  sure  ;  but  just  now  I  heard 
it  again,  and  if — " 

"  If  there  had  n't  been  gulls,  an'  boobies,  an'  Mother  Carey's 
chickens,  as  squeals  and  chitters  just  like  little  childer,  I  'd  a 
been  puzzled  at  what  ye  be  a  tellin'  me ;  but  as  I  knowi 


56  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

there  be  all  o'  these  creators  in  the  middle  o'  the  broad 
ocean,  —  and  mermaids  too,  I  dare  say,  —  then,  ye  see,  little 
Will'm,  I  must  disbelieve  that  ye  heard  anything  more  than 
the  voice  of —  a  man,  by  — ! " 

.As  the  sailor  terminated  his  speech  with  this  terrible  em- 
phasis, he  started  into  an  upright  attitude,  and  listened  with 
all  his  ears  for  another  utterance  of  that  harsh  monotone 
that,  borne  upon  the  breeze  and  rising  above  the  "  sough " 
of  the  disturbed  water,  could  easily  be  distinguished  as  the 
voice  of  a  man. 

"  We  're  lost,  Will'm ! "  cried  he,  without  waiting  for  a 
repetition  of  the  sound ;  "  we  're  lost  It 's  the  voice  of  Le 
Gros.  The  big  raft  is  a  bearin'  down  upon  us  wi'  them 
bloodthirsty  cannibals  we  thought  we  'd  got  clear  o'.  It 's 
no  use  tryin'  to  escape.  Make  up  your  mind  to  it,  lad; 
we  Ve  got  to  die !  we  've  got  to  die ! " 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

OTHER   WAIFS. 

HAD  it  been  daylight,  instead  of  a  very  dark  night, 
Ben  Brace  and  his  youthful  comrade  would  have 
been  less  alarmed  by  the  voices  that  came  up  the  wind. 
Daylight  would  have  discovered  to  them  an  object,  or  rather 
i  collection  of  objects,  which,  instead  of  repelling,  would  have 
attracted  them  nearer. 

It  was  not  the  great  raft  that  was  drifting  to  leeward,  nor 
was  it  the  voice  of  Le  Gros  or  any  of  his  wicked  companions, 
that  had  been  heard  ;  though,  in  the  excitement  <f  their  fears, 
that  was  the  first  thought  of  the  two  castaways. 

Could  their  eyes  have  penetrated  the  deep  obscurity  that 


OTHER  WAIFS.  57 

^hroaded  the  sea,  they  would  have  beheld  a  number  of  objects, 
like  themselves,  adrjft  upon  the  water,  and  like  them,  at  the 
mercy  of  the  winds  and  waves.  They  would  have  seen 
pieces  of  timber,  black  and  charred  with  fire ;  fragments  of 
broken  spars,  with  sails  and  cordage  attached  and  trailing 
after  them ;  here  and  there  a  cask  or  barrel,  sunk  to  the 
level  of  the  surface  by  the  weight  of  its  contents ;  pieces  of 
packing-cases,  torn  asunder  as  if  by  some  terrible  explosion ; 
cabin-chairs,  coops,  oars,  handspikes,  and  other  implements 
of  the  mariner's  calling,  —  all  bobbing  about  on  the  bosom  of 
the  blue  deep,  and  carried  hither  and  thither  by  the  arbitrary 
oscillations  of  the  breeze. 

These  various  objects  were  not  all  huddled  up  together, 
but  scattered  unequally  over  a  space  of  more  than  a  square 
mile  in  extent.  Had  it  been  daylight,  so  that  the  sailor  could 
have  seen  them,  as  they  appeared  mottling  the  bright  surface 
of  the  sea,  he  would  have  experienced  no  difficulty  in  de 
termining  their  character.  At  a  glance  he  would  have 
recognized  the  debris  of  the  burnt  ship,  from  which  he 
and  his  companion  had  so  narrowly  escaped,  —  the  slave-bark 
Pandora. 

He  would  have  looked  upon  these  objects  with  no  very 
great  surprise,  but  in  all  likelihood  with  a  feeling  of  consider- 
able satisfaction:  as  offering  the  means  for  recruiting  the 
strength  of  his  own  slight  embarkation,  which  was  barely 
sufficient  to  sustain  the  weight  of  himself  and  his  companion, 
and  certainly  not  strong  enough  to  withstand  the  assault  of 
the  most  moderate  of  storms. 

In  the  midst  of  the  "  waifs"  above  enumerated,  however, 
there  was  one  not  yet  named,  —  one  that  differed  greatly 
from  all  the  rest,  —  and  which,  had  it  been  seen  by  them, 
would  have  caused  extreme  surprise  both  to  Ben  Brace  and 
little  William. 

It  was  a  raft,  not  a  great  deal  larger  than  their  own,  but 
altogether  of  different  construction.     A  number  of  planks 
8* 


S>8  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

moat  of  them  charred  by  fire,  with  a  sofa,  a  bamboo  chair, 
and  some  other  articles  of  furniture,  had  been  rudely  bound 
together  by  ropes.  These  things,  of  themselves,  would  have 
made  but  a  very  clumsy  craft,  no  better  for  navigating  the 
great  ocean  than  that  upon  which  Ben  and  the  boy  were 
themselves  embarked.  But  the  buoyancy  of  the  former  was 
secured  by  a  contrivance  of  which  the  sailor  had  not  had  the 
opportunity  of  availing  himself.  Around  its  edge  were 
ranged  hogsheads  or  water-casks,  evidently  empty.  They 
were  lashed  to  the  plank ;  and  being  bunged  up  against  the 
influx  of  the  water,  kept  the  whole  structure  afloat,  so  that  it 
would  have  carried  a  ton  or  two  without  sinking  below  the 
surface. 

There  was  a  smaller  cask  floating  alongside,  attached  to 
the  timbers  by  a  piece  of  rope  that  was  tightly  looped  around 
the  swell.  But  this  could  not  have  been  designed  to  increase 
the  buoyancy  of  the  raft :  since  it  was  itself  almost  submerged, 
evidently  by  the  weight  of  something  it  contained. 

Such  a  congeries  of  objects  might  have  drifted  side  by  side 
by  chance,  or  the  caprice  of  the  currents  ;  but  they  could  not 
have  tied  themselves  together  in  such  fashion.  There  was 
design  in  the  arrangement ;  and  in  the  midst  of  the  circle  of 
empty  hogsheads  might  have  been  seen  the  contriver  of  this 
curious  craft.  He  was,  of  course,  a  human  being,  and  a  man  ; 
but  such  an  one  as,  under  any  circumstances,  would  arrest  the 
attention  of  the  beholder;  much  more  in  the  singular  .situa- 
tion in  which  he  was  then  met  with.  He  was  a  black  man, 
in  the  fullest  sense  of  the  word ;  a  true  negro,  with  a  skin 
shining  like  ebony ;  a  skull  of  large  size,  and  slightly  square 
in  shape,  covered  with  a  thick  crop  of  curling  wool,  so  close 
and  short  as  to  appear  felted  into  the  skin.  A  brace  of  broad 
ears  stood  prominently  out  from  the  sides  of  his  head ;  and 
extending  aknost  from  one  to  the  other,  was  a  wide-gaping 
mouth,  formed  by  a  pair  of  lips  of  huge  thickness,  protruding 
far  forward,  so  as  to  give  to  the  countenance  those  facial 
outlines  characteristic  of  the  chimpanzee  or  gorilla. 


OTHER  WAIFS.  59 

Notwithstanding  hia  somewhat  abnormal  features,  the  ex- 
pression of  the  negro's  face  was  far  from  being  hideous.  It 
was  not  even  disagreeable.  A  double  row  of  white  teeth, 
gleaming  between  the  purplish  lips,  could  be  exhibited  upou 
ordinary  occasions  in  a  pleasant  smile ;  and  the  impression 
derived  from  looking  upon  the  countenance  was,  that  the 
owner  of  it  was  rather  good-natured  than  otherwise.  'Just 
then,  as  he  sat  upon  the  raft,  gazing  over  the  bulwark  of 
hogsheads,  its  expression  was  one  of  profound  and  sombre 
melancholy.  No  wonder ! 

The  negro  was  not  alone.  Another  individual  shared  with 
him  the  occupancy  of  the  raft;  —  one  differing  from  him  in 
appearance  as  Hyperion  from  the  Satyr.  A  few  feet  from 
him,  and  directly  before  his  face,  was  a  little  girl,  apparently 
about  ten  or  twelve  years  of  age.  She  was  seated,  or  rathei 
cowering,  among  the  timbers  of  the  raft,  upon  a  piece  of 
tarpauling  that  had  been  spread  over  them,  her  eyes  bent 
upon  her  black  companion,  though  occasionally  straying,  with 
listless  glance,  over  the  sombre  surface  of  the  sea.  Although 
so  young,  her  countenance  appeared  sad  and  despondent,  as 
if  under  the  belief  that  there  was  little  hope  of  escape  from 
the  fearful  situation  in  which  she  was  placed,  and  as  if  her 
little  spirit  had  long  ago  surrendered  to  despair. 

Though  not  a  negro  like  her  companion,  the  girl  could 
scarce  be  called  white.  Her  complexion  was  of  that  hue 
known  as  olive ;  but  her  hair,  although  curling,  hung  in  long 
locks  down  over  her  shoulders ;  and  the  crimson  hue  deeply 
tinting  her  cheeks  told  that  in  her  blood  there  was  more  Cau- 
casian than  negro. 

Any  one  who  had  visited  the  western  coast  of  Africa,  on 
seeing  this  little  girl,  would  easily  have  recognized  in  her 
features  the  type  of  that  mixed  race  whi<  h  has  resulted  from 
long  intercourse  between  the  Portuguese  •*  colonists  "  and  the 
•able  indigenes  of  the  soil. 


•0  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

CHAPTER    XVII. 

HOW   SNOWBALL    ESCAPED   FBOM   THE    SLAVER. 

ON  this  curious  embarkation,  drifting  about  amid  Lie 
remains  of  the  wrecked  ship,  there  were  only  the  twe 
human  figures,  —  the  negro  and  the  little  girl.  It  is  super- 
fluous to  say  that  they  were  also  a  portion  of  the  wreck 
itself,  —  other  castaways  who  had,  so  far,  succeeded  in  saving 
themselves  from  the  fearful  doom  that  had  overtaken,  no 
doubt,  every  one  of  the  wretched  beings  composing  the  cargo 
of  the  slaver. 

The  negro  upon  the  raft,  though  black  as  the  blackest  of 
his  unfortunate  countrymen,  was  not  among  the  number  of 
those  who  had  been  carried  as  freight.  On  the  contrary,  he 
was  one  of  the  crew,  —  the  lord  of  the  caboose,  and  known 
upon  the  slave-bark  by  the  satirical  soubriquet  of  "  Snow- 
ball." 

Although  originally  a  slave  from  Africa,  and  by  race  a 
Ooromantee,  Snowball  had  long  been  in  the  enjoyment  o' 
his  liberty;  and,  as  cook  or  steward,  had  seen  service  in 
scores  of  ships,  and  circumnavigated  the  globe  in  almost 
every  latitude  where  circumnavigation  was  possible. 

Though  not  naturally  of  a  wicked  disposition,  he  was  by 
no  means  particular  as  to  the  company  he  kept,  or  the  sort 
of  ship  he  sailed  in,  —  so  long  as  the  wages  were  good  and 
the  store-room  well  supplied ;  and  as  these  conditions  are 
usually  found  on  board  of  a  slaver,  it  was  not  Snowball's 
first  voyage  in  a  vessel  of  the  kind.  It  is  true  that  he  had 
never  sailed  in  company  with  a  more  ribald  crew  than  that 
of  the  Pandora;  but  it  is  only  justice  to  say,  that,  long  before 
the  fatal  interruption  of  that  voyage,  even  he  had  becom« 
tired  of  their  companionship,  and  had  been  almost  as  eager 
to  get  away  from  the  ship  as  Ben  Brace  or  little  William. 


HOW  SNOWBALL  ESCAPED  FROM  THE  SLAVEB.       61 

He,  too,  had  been  deterred  from  attempting  to  escape  while 
upon  the  African  coast,  by  the  knowledge  that  such  an 
attempt  would  have  been  worse  than  idle.  In  all  likelihood 
it  would  have  ended  in  his  being  captured  by  his  own  coun- 
trymen, —  or,  at  all  events,  by  people  of  his  own  color,  —  and 
sold  once  more  into  that  very  slavery  from  which  he  had 
formerly  succeeded  in  emancipating  himself. 

Though  Snowball's  morality  was  far  from  being  immacu- 
late, there  was  one  virtue  which  he  was  not  wanting,— 
gratitude.  But  for  the  possession  of  this,  he  might  have 
been  alone  upon  the  raft,  and,  perhaps,  less  caring  in  what 
direction  the  winds  and  waves  might  carry  him.  As  it  was, 
his  sole  thought  and  anxiety  was  about  his  little  companion, 
whose  safety  was  as  dear  to  him  as  his  own. 

It  will  be  asked  why  Snowball  felt  this  unselfish  solicitude. 
The  child  could  not  be  his  own  ?  Complexion,  features, 
everything  forbade  the  supposition  that  there  could  be  any- 
thing of  kinship  between  her  and  her  sable  protector. 

Nor  was  there  the  slightest.  On  the  contrary,  the  little 
girl  was  the  daughter  of  one  who  had  once  been  Snowball's 
greatest  enemy,  —  the  man  who  had  sold  him  into  slavery; 
but  who  had  afterwards  won  the  negro's  gratitude  by  restor- 
ing to  him  his  freedom.  This  person  had  formerly  owned  a 
trading  fort  on  the  coast  of  Africa,  but  of  late  years  had  been 
a  resident  of  Rio  in  Brazil.  His  daughter,  born  in  the 
former  country,  previous  to  his  leaving  it,  was  crossing  the 
great  oc«an  to  rejoin  him  in  his  new  home  in  the  western 
world.  Hence  her  presence  on  board  the  Pandora,  where 
ehe  had  been  a  passenger  under  the  protection  of  Snowball. 

And  well  had  the  negro  performed  his  duty  as  protector. 
When  all  the  others  had  forsaken  the  ship,  and  the  flames 
were  fast  spreading  over  her  decks,  the  faithful  negro  had 
gone  below,  and,  rousing  the  girl  from  her  sleep,  —  for  she 
had  been  slumbering  unconscious  of  the  danger,  —  had  borne 
her  amidst  flames  and  smoke,  at  the  imminent  risk  of  his  own 


62  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

life,  and  passing  through  the  cabin  windows  with  his  burdet 
in  his  arms,  he  had  dropped  down  into  the  sea  under  the 
stern  of  the  burning  bark. 

Being  an  excellent  swimmer,  he  had  kept  afloat  for  some 
minutes,  sustaining  both  himself  and  his  burden  by  his  own 
strength ;  but  after  a  while  he  succeeded  in  clutching  on  to 
the  davit-tackle  by  which  the  gig  had  been  let  down  into  the 
water,  and  having  passed  his  foot  through  a  loop  in  the  end 
of  it,  he  remained  half  suspended,  half  afloat  on  the  water. 
Soon  after  came  the  explosion,  caused  by  the  ignition  of  the 
gunpowdar ;  and  as  the  vessel  was  blown  to  pieces,  the  sea 
around  became  strewed  with  fragments  of  shattered  timber, 
cabin  furniture,  sea-chests,  and  the  like.  Laying  hold  on 
thoce  pieces  that  were  nearest,  he  succeeded  in  forming  a 
rude  sort  of  raft,  upon  which  he  and  his  protege  were  enabled 
to  pass  the  remainder  of  the  night. 

When  morning  dawned,  Snowball  and  the  little  Lalee  — 
such  was  the  name  of  the  child  —  were  the  only  beings  who 
appeared  to  have  survived  the  catastrophe,  —  the  wretched 
creatures  who  at  the  last  moment  had  escaped  from  the 
" 'tween-decks  "  were  no  longer  in  existence. 

Having  been  brough/  from  the  interior  of  the  African 
continent,  —  and  from  a  district  where  there  are  no  great 
lakes  or  rivers,  —  but  few  of  them  could  swim ;  and  those  few 
had  become  the  prey  of  the  sharks,  that  in  scores  were  swim- 
ming around  the  frail  craft.  As  the  sun  rose  over  the  ocean, 
and  lit  up  the  scene  of  that  terrible  tragedy,  Snowball  saw 
not  a  living  creature  save  his  own  protlge,  the  sharks,  and 
their  satellites. 

The  negro  knew,  however,  that  the  Pandora's  own  people 
had  escaped.  He  had  witnessed  the  clandestine  departure 
of  the  gig,  containing  the  skipper  and  his  confederates. 

This  he  had  seen,  \rhile  gazing  through  the  windows  of 
the  cabin,  previous  to  launching  himself  upon  that  last  despe- 
rate leap.  He  had  also  been  a  witness  to  the  departure  of 
the  great  raft  carrying  the  crew. 


HOW  SNOWBALL  ESCAPED  FROM  THE  SLAVER.        63 

It  may  appear  strange  that  he  did  not  swim  towards  it, 
and  share  the  fortunes  of  his  former  associates.  Why  he 
did  not  do  so  is  easily  explained.  By  an  accident,  arising 
from  his  own  negligence,  the  ship  had  been  set  on  fire.  He 
was  aware  of  this ;  and  he  knew  also  that  both  captain  and 
crew  were  equally  cognizant  of  the  fact.  The  former,  just 
after  the  discovery,  assisted  by  the  brutal  mate,  had  adminis- 
tered to  him  (Snowball)  such  a  chastisement  as  he  would 
not  soon  forget ;  while  the  crew,  on  becoming  acquainted 
with  the  circumstance,  were  upon  the  point  of  tossing  him 
into  the  sea ;  and  would  no  doubt  have  carried  their  design 
into  execution,  but  for  the  presence  of  the  appalling  danger 
impelling  them  to  look  to  their  own  safety.  The  negro  knew, 
therefore,  that,  were  he  to  seek  safety  on  me  great  raft,  it 
would  only  be  to  throw  himself  into  merciless  hands,  certain 
to  spurn  him  back  with  vengeful  indignation,  or  fling  him 
into  the  jaws  of  the  hideous  monsters  already  swimming 
around  the  ship,  and  quartering  the  sea  in  every  direction. 

For  this  reason  had  Snowball  chosen  to  trust  to  his  own 
strength,  —  to  chance,  —  to  anything  rather  than  the  mercy 
of  his  old  associates,  with  whom,  for  a  long  period  past,  he 
had  been  far  from  a  favorite. 

Perhaps  it  had  turned  out  for  the  best.  Had  he  succeeded 
in  reaching  the  great  raft,  and  been  permitted  to  share  with 
its  occupants  their  chances  of  safety,  it  is  more  than  probable 
that  the  little  Lalee  might  have  become  the  victim  of  that 
Horrid  Httempt  from  which  the  little  William  had  so  narrowly 


64  THE  OCEAN  WAIl'S. 

CHAPTER    XVIII. 

SNOWBALL    AMID   THE   DHIPT. 

THE  adventures  of  Snowball  and  his  protege,  from  th« 
blowing  up  of  the  Pandora  until  six  suns  had  risen 
and  gone  down  over  the  ocean,  if  not  so  varied  as  those  of 
Ben  Brace  and  his  protege,  were  nevertheless  of  sufficient 
interest  to  deserve  a  brief  narration. 

Supported  by  the  few  sticks  which  he  had  been  able  to 
draw  together,  he  had  remained  during  the  rest  of  the  night 
in  the  midst  of  the  floating  fragments. 

He  had  listened  to  the  wild  shouts  of  vengeful  rage,  pro- 
ceeding from  the  throats  of  the  slaves,  as  they  clutched  at 
the  great  raft,  and  were  beaten  back  by  those  who  occupied 
it.  He  had  seen  the  broad  sail  suddenly  hoisted,  and  the 
dark  maarf  gradually  gliding  away  over  the  ocean.  He  had 
heard  many  an  agonizing  yell  as,  one  by  one,  the  few  strong 
swimmers  who  survived  the  rest  either  sank  by  exhaustion 
or  were  dragged  down  in  the  jaws  of  the  numerous  sharks ; 
until,  the  last  shriek  having  sounded  in  his  ears,  all  became 
silent  as  the  tomb,  while  the  sombre  surface  of  the  sea  onco 
more  lay  motionless  around  him.  Even  the  ravening  mon- 
sters, for  a  moment,  seemed  to  have  forsaken  the  spot,  —  as 
if  each,  having  secured  a  sufficient  prey,  had  gone  down  to 
devour  it  undisturbed  in  the  dark  unfathomed  caverns  of  the 
deep. 

Wh^n  morning  dawned  upon  the  scene,  all  hough  many 
objects  met  the  eye  of  the  negro  and  his  companion,  there 
was  to  human  being  within  sight ;  and  Snowball  knew  that, 
with  the  exception  of  the  six  men  who  had  rowed  off  in  the 
gig,  and  die  crew  upon  the  great  raft,  there  were  no  other 
survivors  of  the  slaver. 

The  crew  having  spread  a  sail  to  g;et  out  of  reach  of 


SNOWBALL  AMID  THE  DKIFT.  65 

the  drowning  wretches  who  were  clutching  at  their  raft,  the 
latter  was  soon  carried  out  of  sight ;  while  the  six  in  the  gig 
had  rowed  off  as  fast  as  they  were  able,  in  order  to  get  out 
of  reach  of  their  own  companions !  For  these  reasons,  when 
day  broke  over  the  ocean,  neither  boat  nor  raft  were  visible 
from  the  spot  where  the  catastrophe  had  occurred. 

It  may  appear  strange  that  none  of  the  living  cargo  of  the 
slaver  had  succeeded  in  saving  themselves,  by  clinging  tc 
seme  fragment  of  the  wreck ;  and  Snowball  thought  so  at 
the  time. 

The  truth  was,  that  those  who  could  swim  had  struck  out 
after  the  raft,  and  had  followed  it  so  far  that  they  were  not 
able  to  swim  back  to  the  burning  vessel ;  while  the  others,  in 
the  wild  terror  produced  by  the  proximity  of  the  flames,  had 
leaped  despairingly  into  the  sea,  and  sunk  upon  the  instant. 

The  early  sunbeams,  as  they  fell  slantingly  over  the  surface 
of  the  sea,  told  the  negro  that  he  was  alone,  —  alone  with  the 
little  Lalee,  —  alone  in  the  middle  of  the  Atlantic  Ocean, — 
afloat  upon  a  few  sticks,  —  without  a  morsel  of  food  to  eat, 
without  a  drop  of  water  to  drink  ! 

It  was  a  terrible  situation,  —  sufficient  to  produce  despair 
even  in  the  stoutest  heart, 

But  Snowball  was  not  one  of  the  despairing  sort.  He  had 
been  too  cften  in  peril  of  life  —  both  by  sea  and  land  —  to  be 
unnerved  even  in  that  dread  hour;  and  instead  of  permitting 
his  spirits  to  become  prostrated,  he  bethought  him  of  how  he 
might  make  the  best  of  the  circumstances  by  which  he  was 
surrounded. 

An  object  that  came  under  his  eye,  -just  as  the  day  began 
(o  break,  kindled  within  him  a  faint  gleam  of  hope,  and  urged 
to  making  an  effort  for  the  salvation  of  himself  and  his  help- 
less companion.  This  object  was  a  smill  keg,  or  beaker, 
which  chanced  to  be  floating  near  him,  and  which,  from  some 
mark  upon  it,  Snowball  recognized.  He  knew  that  it  had 
been  standing  in  a  corner  of  the  caboose,  previous  to  the 


66  THE  OCEAN   WAIFS. 

blowing  up  of  the  bark;  and,  moreover,  that  it  contained 
several  gallons  of  fresh  water,  which  he  had  himself  surrep- 
titiously abstracted  from  the  common  stock,  previous  to  the 
time  that  the  slaver's  crew  had  agreed  to  being  put  upon 
rations. 

It  was  but  the  work  of  a  minute  to  secure  this  keg,  and 
attach  it  by  a  strong  cord  to  the  piece  of  timber  on  which  the 
ex-cook  was  seated  astride. 

But  for  this  unexpected  supply  of  water  Snowball  might 
probably  have  yielded  to  despair.  Without  water  to  drink 
he  could  not  have  reckoned  on  a  long  lease  of  life,  —  either 
for  himself  or  his  protege.  So  opportunely  had  the  keg  come 
before  his  eyes  as  to  seem  a  Providential  interference ; 
and  the  belief  or  fancy  that  it  was  so  stimulated  him  to  a 
further  search  among  the  fragments  of  the  shattered  ship. 

There  were  many  queer  things  around  him,  —  like  himself 
bobbing  about  upon  the  tiny  waves.  One,  however,  soon 
monopolized  his  attention ;  and  that  was  a  barrel  of  some- 
what flimsy  structure,  and  about  the  size  of  those  usually 
employed  for  carrying  flour.  Snowball  recognized  it  also 
as  an  old  acquaintance  in  the  store-room,  and  knew  that  it 
was  filled  with  the  best  kind  of  biscuit,  —  a  private  stock 
belonging  to  the  captain. 

Its  contents  could  not  fail  to  be  saturated  with  salt  water, 
for  the  barrel  was  not  water-tight;  but  the  ex-cook  could 
dry  them  in  the  sun,  and  render  them,  if  not  palatable,  at 
least  eatable. 

The  biscuit-barrel  was  soon  fished  up  out  of  the  water, 
and  placed  high  and  dry  upon  the  little  raft. 

Snowball  was  next  struck  with  the  necessity  of  improving 
the  quality  of  his  craft,  by  giving  it  increase  .both  in  size 
and  strength.  With  this  intention  —  after  having  possessed 
himself  of  an  oar,  out  of  several  that  were  adrift  —  ne  com 
menced  paddling  about  among  the  floating  fragments,  here 
and  there  picking  up  such  pieces  as  appeared  befst  er'ted  tc 
his  purpose. 


SNOWBALL  AMD  THE  DRIFT.  67 

In  a  short  while  he  succeeded  in  collecting  a  sufficient 
number  of  spars  and  other  pieces  of  timber,  —  among  which 
figured  a  portion  of  his  own  old  tenement,  the  caboose,  —  to 
form  a  raft  as  large  as  he  might  require ;  and  to  his  great 
satisfaction  he  saw  around  him  the  very  things  that  would 
render  it  seaworthy.  Bobbing  about  on  the  waves,  and  at 
uo  great  distance,  were  half  a  dozen  empty  water-casks. 
There  had  been  too  many  of  them  aboard  the  slaver :  since 
their  emptiness  was  the  original  cause  of  the  catastrophe  that 
had  ensued.  But  there  were  not  too  many  for  Snowball's 
present  purpose ;  and,  after  paddling  first  to  one  and  then 
another,  he  secured  each  in  turn,  and  lashed  them  to  hia 
raft,  in  such  fashion,  that  the  great  hogsheads,  sitting  higher 
in  the  water  than  the  timbers  of  the  raft,  formed  a  sort  o* 
parapet  around  it. 

This  task  accomplished,  he  proceeded  to  collect  from  the 
wreck  such  other  articles  as  he  fancied  might  be  of  service 
to  him ;  and,  thus  occupied,  he  spent  several  days  on  the 
spot  where  the  Pandora  had  gone  to  pieces. 

The  slight  breezes  that  arose  from  time  to  time,  and  again 
subsided,  had  not  separated  his  raft  from  the  other  objects 
dtill  left  floating  near.  \n  whatever  direction  they  went,  so 
went  he :  since  all  wer«  drifting  together. 

The  idea  had  nev^r  occurred  to  the  negro  to  set  up  a  sail 
and  endeavor  to  get  away  from  the  companionship  of  the 
inanimate  objects  around  him,  —  souvenirs  as  they  were  of 
a  fearful  disaster.  Or  rather  it  had  occurred  to  him,  and 
was  rejected  as  unworthy  of  being  entertained.  Snowball, 
without  knowing  much  of  the  theory  of  navigation,  had  suf- 
ficient practical  acquaintance  with  the  great  Atlantic  Ocean, 
—  especially  that  part  of  it  where  lies  the  track  of  the 
dreaded  "  middle  passage,"  —  long  remembered  by  the 
transported  slave,  —  Snowball,  I  say,  was  sufficiently  ac- 
quainted with  his  present  whereabouts,  to  know  that  a  sail 
set  upon  his  raft,  and  carrying  him  hither  and  thither,  would 


68  THE   OCEAN  WAIFS. 

not  add  much  to  the  chances  of  his  being  rescued  from  a 
watery  grave.  His  only  hope  lay  in  being  picked  up  by 
some  passing  vessel ;  and,  feeling  convinced  of  this,  he  made 
no  effort  to  go  one  way  or  the  other,  but  suffered  himself  to 
be  drifted  about,  along  with  the  other  waifs  of  the  wreck, 
whithersoever  it  pleased  the  winds  or  the  currents  of  the 
ocean  to  carry  him. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

SNOWBALL   AT    SEA    ON   A    HENCOOP. 

FOR  six  days  had  Snowball  been  leading  this  sort  of 
life,  along  with  the  little  Lalee,  —  subsisting  partly  on 
the  sea-steeped  biscuit  found  in  the  barrel,  and  partly  upon 
other  provisions  which  had  turned  up  among  the  drift; 
while  the  precious  water  contained  in  the  keg  had  hitherto 
kept  them  from  suffering  the  pangs  of  thirst. 

During  these  six  days  he  had  never  wholly  surrendered 
himself  up  to  despair.  It  was  not  the  first,  by  several  times, 
for  the  old  sea-cook  to  have  suffered  shipwreck ;  nor  was  it 
his  first  time  to  be  cast  away  in  mid-ocean.  Once  had  he 
been  blown  overboard  in  a  storm,  and  led  behind,  —  the 
ship,  from  the  violence  of  the  wind,  having  been  unable  to 
tick  round  and  return  to  his  rescue.  Being  an  excellent 
swimmer,  he  had  kept  afloat,  buffeting  with  the  huge  billows 
for  nearly  an  hour.  Of  course,  in  the  end,  he  mu^t  have 
gone  to  the  bottom,  as  the  place  where  the  incident  oc- 
curred was  hundreds  of  miles  from  any  land.  But  just  as 
he  was  on  the  point  of  giving  in,  a  hencoop  came  drifting 
past,  to  which  he  at  once  attached  himself,  and  this  being 
fortunately  of  sufficient  size  to  suptain  his  weight,  hi 
him  from  sinking. 


SNOWBALL  AT  SEA  ON  A  HENCOOP.  53 

Though  he  knew  that  the  hencoop  had  been  thrown  om 
•f  the  ship  by  some  of  his  comrades,  after  he  had  gone 
overboard,  the  ship  herself  was  no  longer  in  sight ;  and  the 
unlucky  swimmer,  notwithstanding  the  help  given  him  by 
the  hencoop,  must  eventually  have  perished  among  the 
waves,  but  the  storm  having  subsided,  and  the  wind  sud- 
denly changing  into  the  opposite  quarter,  the  vessel  was 
wafted  back  on  her  old  track ;  and  passing  within  hail  of 
Snowball,  his  comrades  succeeded  in  rescuing  him  from  his 
perilous  situation. 

With  the  retrospect  of  such  an  experience,  —  and  Snow- 
ball could  look  buck  upon  many  such,  —  he  was  not  the  man 
to  yield  easily  to  despair.  On  the  contrary,  he  now  acted 
as  if  he  believed  that  there  was  still  not  only  some  hope, 
but  a  considerable  chance  of  being  delivered  from  the  di- 
lemma in  which  the  late  disaster  of  the  Pandora  had  placed 
him. 

Scarce  an  hour  during  the  six  days  had  he  permitted  to 
pass  in  idleness.  As  already  stated,  he  had  collected  ample 
materials  from  the  wreck  floating  around  him.  Out  of 
these  he  had  formed  a  good-sized  raft,  having  spent  much 
time  and  labor  in  giving  it  strength  and  security.  This 
accomplished,  and  all  the  provisions  he  could  find  safely 
stored  upon  it,  he  had  devoted  the  rest  of  his  time  to 
fishing. 

There  were  many  fish  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  wreck. 
Fearful  fish  they  were  too :  for  they  were  sharks :  the  same 
that  had  made  such  havoc  among  the  unfortunate  creatures 
who  had  constituted  the  cargo  of  the  slaver.  These  vora- 
cious monsters,  —  though  satiated  for  a  time  with  their  hu- 
man prey,  —  had  not  forsaken  the  spot  where  the  Pandora 
had  gone  to  pieces;  but  on  the  square  mile  of  surface 
strewed  by  the  floating  fragments  of  the  wreck  they  could 
still  be  seen  in  pairs,  and  sometimes  in  larger  numbers,  with 
their  huge  sail-like  fins  projecting  high  above  the  water, 


70  THE   OCEAN  WAIFS. 

veering  about  as  if  once  more  hungry,  and  quartering  th« 
sea  in  search  of  fresh  victims. 

Snowball  had  not  succeeded  in  capturing  any  of  the 
sharks,  though  he  had  spared  no  pains  in  endeavoring  to  do 
so.  There  were  other  large  fish,  however,  that  had  made 
their  appearance  in  the  proximity  of  his  raft,  attracted 
thither  by  the  common  prospect  of  food  promised  by  the 
wreck  of  the  slaver.  There  were  albacores,  and  bonitos, 
and  dolphins,  and  many  other  kinds  of  ocean  fish,  rarely 
seen,  or  only  upon  such  melancholy  occasions.  With  a 
long-handled  harpoon,  which  Snowball  had  succeeded  in 
securing,  he  was  enabled  to  strike  several  of  these  crea- 
tures ;  so  that  by  the  evening  of  the  sixth  day,  his  larder 
was  considerably  increased,  —  comprising,  in  the  way  of 
fish,  an  albacore,  a  brace  of  bonitos,  with  three  satellites  of 
the  sharks,  —  a  pilot-  and  two  sucking-fish. 

All  these  had  been  ripped  open  and  disembowelled,  after 
which  their  flesh,  cut  into  thin  slices,  and  spread  out  on  the 
tops  of  the  empty  water-casks  that  surrounded  the  raft,  was 
in  process  of  beirig  cured  by  drying  in  the  sun. 

Befriended  by  the  fine  weather,  Snowball  had  succeeded, 
one  way  and  another,  in  accumulating  no  mean  store  of  pro- 
visions ;  and,  so  far  as  food  went,  he  felt  confident,  both  for 
himself  and  his  companion,  of  being  able  to  hold  out  not 
only  for  days,  but  for  weeks  or  even  months. 

He  felt  equal  confidence  in  regard  to  their  stock  of  water. 
Having  gauged  the  keg  in  his  own  rude  way,  and  satisfied 
himself  as  to  the  quantity  of  its  contents,  he  had  made  a 
calculation  of  how  long  it  might  last,  and  found  that  by  a 
careful  econcmy  it  could  be  depended  upon  for  a  period  of 
several  weeks. 

Reposing  upon  these  pleasant  data,  on  the  night  of  tht> 
eixth  day  he  had  gone  to  rest  with  a  feeling  cf  confidence 
that  soon  enticed  his  spirit  into  the  profoundest  slumbers. 

Not  that   Snowball   had  gone  without  sleep  during  thfl 


THE  FLASH  OF  LIGHTNING.  71 

other  iive  nights  spent  upon  his  raft.  He  had  slept  a  little 
on  each  of  them.  Only  a  little,  however ;  for,  as  most  of 
them  had  been  moonlight  nights,  he  had  kept  awake  during 
the  greater  portion  of  each,  on  the  lookout  over  the  sur- 
face of  the  ocean,  lest  some  ship,  sailing  near,  might  glide 
past  silently  and  unseen,  and  so  deprive  him  of  a  chance  of 
being  picked  up. 

The  little  Lalee  had  also  borne  part  in  these  nocturnal 
vigils,  —  taking  her  turn  when  Snowball  became  too  weary 
to  keep  awake ;  and  so,  in  alternate  watches,  had  the  two 
been  hi  the  habit  of  tiring  out  the  long  hours  of  the 
night 

To  this  practice  the  sixth  night  had  proved  an  exception. 
There  was  no  moon  in  the  sky ;  there  were  no  stars ;  not  a 
glimmer  of  light,  either  in  the  firmament  of  the  heavens  or 
on  the  face  of  the  deep.  The  sky  above  and  the  sea  below 
were  both  of  one  color,  —  the  hue  of  pitch.  On  such  a 
night  it  was  idle  to  keep  watch.  A  ship  might  have  passed 
within  a  cable's  length  of  the  raft,  and  still  remained  un- 
seen ;  and,  filled  with  this  conviction,  both  Snowball  and  hia 
companion,  after  the  night  had  fairly  closed  over  them, 
stretched  their  bodies  along  the  pieces  of  sail-c^oth  that 
formed  their  respective  couches,  and  surrendered  their 
spirits  to  the  sweet  enchantment  of  sleep. 


CHAPTER    XX. 

THE   FLASH    OF   LIGHTNING. 


SNOWBALL  began  to  snore  almost  as  soon  as  he  had 
closed  his  eyelids,  and  as  if  the  shutting  of  his  eyes 
had  either  occasioned  or  strengthened  the  current  of  breath 
through  hia  nostrils. 


72  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

And  such  a  sound  as  the  snore  of  the  Coromantee  wai 
rarely  heard  upon  the  ocean,  —  except  in  the  "spouting"  of 
a  whale  or  the  "blowing"  of  a  porpoise. 

It  did  not  wake  the  little  Lalee.  She  had  become  accus- 
tomed to  the  snoring  of  Snowball,  —  which,  instead  of  being 
a  disturber,  acted  rather  as  a  lullaby  to  her  rest. 

It  was  only  after  both  had  been  asleep  for  many  hours 
after  midnight,  —  in  fact  when  Lalee  was  herself  sleeping 
less  soundly,  and  when  a  snore,  more  prolonged  and  pro- 
digious than  any  that  had  preceded  it,  came  swelling  through 
the  nostrils  of  the  sea-cook,  —  it  was  only  then  that  the 
young  girl  was  awakened. 

Becoming  aware  of  what  had  awakened  her,  she  would 
have  gone  to  sleep  again;  but  just  as  she  was  about  re- 
composing  herself  upon  her  sailcloth  couch,  a  sight  came 
before  her  eyes  that  caused  her  not  only  to  remain  awake, 
but  filled  her  with  a  feeling  of  indescribable  awe. 

On  the  instant  of  opening  her  eyes,  the  sky,  hitherto  dark, 
had  become  suddenly  illumined  by  lightning,  —  not  in 
streaks  or  flashes,  but  as  if  a  sheet  of  fire  had  been  spread 
for  an  instant  over  the  whole  canopy  of  the  heavens. 

At  the  same  time  the  surface  of  the  sea  had  been  equally 
lighted  up  with  the  vivid  gleam ;  and  among  the  many  ob- 
jects drifting  around  the  raft,  —  the  remnants  of  the  wreck, 
with  which  the  eyes  of  the  little  Lalee  had  now  become 
familiarized,  —  she  saw,  or  fancied  she  saw,  one  altogether 
new  to  her. 

It  was  a  human  face  and  figure,  in  the  likeness  of  a  beau- 
tiful boy,  who  appeared  to  be  kneeling  on  the  water,  or  on 
some  slight  structure  on  a  level  with  the  surface  of  the 
sea! 

The  lightning  had  revealed  other  objects  beside  him  and 
over  him.  A  pair  of  slender  sticks,  standing  some  feet 
apart,  and  in  a  perpendicular  position,  with  some  whita 
strips  suspended  between  thorn,  in  the  gleam  of  the  light 
ning  shone  clear  and  conspicuous. 


THE  FLASH  OF  LIGHTNING  73 

It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  thai  the  little  Lake  should 
feel  surprise  at  an  apparition,  —  so  unexpected,  in  such  a 
place,  and  under  such  circumstances.  It  is  not  to  be  won- 
dered at  that  her  first  impulse  should  be  to  rouse  her 
companion  out  of  his  snoring  slumbers. 

She  did  so  upon  the  instant,  and  without  waiting  for  an- 
other flash  of  lightning  either  to  confirm  her  belief  in  what 
she  had  seen,  or  convince  her  that  it  was  only  an  apparition, 
—  which  her  fancy,  disturbed  by  the  dreams  in  which  she 
had  been  indulging,  had  conjured  up  on  the  instant  of  her 
awaking. 

"  Wha's  dat  you  say  ?  "  inquired  Snowball,  abruptly  awak- 
ened in  the  middle  of  a  superb  snore ;  "  see  something ! 
you  say  dat,  ma  pickaninny  ?  How  you  see  anyting  such 
night  as  dis  be  ?  Law,  ma  lilly  Lally,  you  no  see  de  nose 
;fore  you  own  face.  De  'ky  'bove  am  dark  as  de  complex- 
yun  ob  dis  ole  nigga;  you  muss  be  mistake,  lilly  gal!  —  dat 
you  muss ! " 

"  No,  indeed,  Snowball ! "  replied  Lalee,  speaking  in 
gumbo  Portuguese,  "  I  am  not  mistaken.  It  was  n't  dark 
w  hen  I  saw  it.  There  was  lightning ;  and  it  was  as  clear 
as  in  daylight  for  a  little  while.  I  'm  sure  I  saw  some 
one ! " 

"What  was  de  some  one  like?"  interrogated  Snowball, 
in  an  accent  that  proclaimed  incredulity.  "  Was  'um  a  man 
or  a  woman  ?  " 

"  Neither." 

"  Neider !  Den  it  muss  ha'  been,  —  ha !  maybe  it  war  a 
mermaid ! " 

"What  I  saw  looked  like  a  boy,  Snowball.  O,  now  I 
think  of  it,  like  that  boy." 

"  What  boy  you  'peak  'bout  ?  " 

*  He  who  was  aboard  the  ship,  —  the  English  boy  who 
was  one  of  the  sailors." 

u  Ah  I  you  mean  de  little  Will'm,  I  'pose.  I  reok'n  dat 
4 


74  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

'ere  lad  hab  gone  to  de  bott'm  ob  de  sea  long  afore  dis,  <rf 
else  he  get  off  on  de  big  raff.  I  know  he  no  go  'long  wi'  de 
cappen,  'caze  I  see  de  little  chap  close  by  de  cuboose  attei 
de  gig  row  'way.  If  he  hab  go  by  de  raff  dem  ruffins  sure 
eat  him  up,  —  dat  be  if  dey  get  hungry.  Dey  sure  do  dat  1 
Hark !  what 'a  dat  I  heer  ?  Sure  's  my  name  be  Snowball, 
I  hear  some  'un  'peak  out  dere  to  win'ard.  D'  you  hear 
anything,  lilly  Lally?" 

"  Yes,  Snowball :  I  think  I  did." 

"  What  you  tink  you  ?  " 

«  A  voice." 

«  What  sort  o'  voice  ?  " 

" Like  a  boy's  voice, — just  like  kit" 

"  Who  you  mean  ?  " 

"  The  boy  sailor  aboard  the  ship.  0,  listen !  There  it 
is  again ;  and  surely  I  hear  another  ?  " 

"  Gorramity !  little  gal,  you  'peak  de  troof.  Sure  'nuff 
dere  am  a  voice,  —  two  ob  dat  same.  One  am  like  de  boy 
we  'peak  'bout,  —  odder  more  like  a  man  o'  full  groaf.  I 
wonder  who  dey  can  be.  Hope  't  an't  de  ghoses  of  some  o' 
de  Pandora's  dat  ha'  been  drowned  or  eat  up  by  de  sharks. 
Lissen  'gain,  Lally,  an  try  make  dem  out." 

Having  imparted  this  injunction,  the  negro  raised  himself 
into  a  half-erect  attitude ;  and  facing  to  windward  with  his 
arms  resting  upon  .one  of  the  empty  casks,  —  which,  as 
already  stated,  formed  a  sort  of  circular  parapet  around  hia 
raft,  —  he  remained  silent  and  listening. 

The  little  Lalee  had  also  assumed  a  half-erect  attitude ; 
and,  by  the  side  of  her  sable  companion,  kept  peering  out 
into  the  darkness,  —  in  the  hope  that  another  flash  of  light- 
ning might  again  reveal  to  her  eyes  the  features  of  that 
beautiful  boy,  who,  alone  of  all  upon  that  fated  ship,  had 
made  upon  her  mind  an  impression  worthy  of  tieing  remem- 
bered. 


TO  THE  OARS.  74 

CHAPTER    XXI. 

TO   THE   OARS. 

a-VTTE'VE  got  to  die  1" 

T  f  As  the  sailor  gave  utterance  to  these  woids  of 
fearful  import,  he  started  from  his  recumbent  position,  and, 
half  erect  upon  the  raft,  remained  listening,  —  at  the  sami 
time  endeavoring  with  his  glance  to  pierce  the  darkness  that 
shrouded  the  surface  of  the  deep. 

Little  William,  terrified  by  the  speech  of  his  protector, 
made  no  rejoinder,  but  with  like  silence  continued  to  look 
and  listen. 

There  was  nothing  visible  save  sea  and  sky ;  and  these, 
in  the  dim  obscurity,  were  not  to  be  distinguished  from  each 
other.  A  raft  or  boat,  —  even  a  large  ship,  —  could  not 
have  been  seen  at  two  cables'  distance  from  that  on  which 
they  were  drifting  along;  and  the  only  sounds  now  heard 
were  the  sighing  of  the  night  breeze,  and  the  "  swish "  of 
the  water  as  it  swept  along  the  sides  of  their  slight  embar- 
kation. 

For  five  minutes  or  more  there  was  nothing  to  interrupt 
this  duetto  of  winds  and  waves,  and  Ben  was  beginning  to 
believe  he  had  been  mistaken.  It  might  not  have  been  the 
voice  of  a  man,  nor  a  voice  at  all.  He  was  but  half  awake 
when  he  fancied  hearing  it.  Was  it  only  a  fancy,  —  an  illu- 
sion ?  It  was  at  the  best  very  indistinct,  —  as  of  some  one 
speaking  in  a  muttered  tone.  It  might  be  the  "  blowing  ' 
of  a  porpoise,  or  the  utterance  of  some  unknown  monster 
of  the  sea :  for  the  sailor's  experience  had  taught  him  that 
there  are  many  kinds  of  creatures  inhabiting  the  ocean  that 
are  only  seen  at  rare  intervals  even  by  one  who  is  constantly 
traversing  it,  and  many  others  one  may  never  see  at  all. 
Could  the  sounds  have  proceeded  from  the  throat  of  some 


76  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

of  these  human-like  denizens  of  the  deep,  known  aa  rft* 
gongs,  lamantins,  manatees,  and  the  like? 

It  was  strangeet  of  all  that  William  had  heard  the  voice 
of  a  girl :  for  the  lad  still  adhered  to  the  belief  that  he  had 
done  so.  That  might  have  been  the  cry  of  a  bird,  or  a  mer- 
maid ;  and  Ben  would  have  been  ready  enough  to  accept 
the  latter  explanation.  But  the  voice  of  a  young  girl, 
coupled  with  that  of  a  man,  rendered  the  circumstance 
more  mysterious  and  altogether  inexplicable. 

"  Did  n't  you  hear  a  man's  voice,  lad  ?  "  he  asked  at  length, 
with  a  view  either  of  dissipating  his  doubts  or  confirming 
them. 

"  I  did,"  replied  the  boy.  "  Yes,  Ben  ;  I  'm  sure  I  did  •, 
not  loud,  but  muttered  like.  But  I  don't  know,  whether  if 
was  Le  Gros.  O,  if  it  was  ! " 

"  Thee  have  good  reason  to  know  his  ugly  croak,  the 
parleyvooin'  scoundrel !  That  thee  have,  Will'm !  Let 's 
hope  we  are  both  mistaken  :  for  if  we  're  to  come  across  them 
ruffins  on  the  big  raft,  we  need  n't  expect  mercy  at  their 
hands.  By  this  time  they  '11  be  all  as  hungry  as  the  sharks 
and  as  ravenin'  too." 

"  Oh ! "  exclaimed  William,  in  accents  of  renewed  fear,  "  I 
hope  it 's  not  them  ! " 

"  Speak  low,  lad  ! "  said  the  sailor,  interrupting  him,  "  only 
in  whispers.  If  they  be  near,  the  best  thing  for  us  are  to 
keep  quiet.  They  can't  see  us  no  more  than  we  can  them ; 
anyhow,  till  it  come  mornin'.  If  we  could  hear  the  sound 
ugain  so  as  to  make  out  the  direction.  I  did  n't  notice  that." 

"  I  did,"  interrupted  William.  "  Both  the  voices  I  heard 
»T((re  out  this  way." 

The  boy  pointed  to  leeward. 

"  To  leuart,  you  think  they  wur  ?  " 

**  I  'm  sure  they  came  from  that  quarter." 

"That  be  curioue,  hows'ever,"  said  the  sailor.  "If't  be 
them  on  tbf  big  raft  they  must  a  passed  us,  or  else  the  wind 


TO  THE  OARS.  77 

mus*  a  veered  round,  for  we've  been  to  ieuart  o'  them  evei 
since  partin'  wi'  'em.  Could  the  wind  a  gone  round  I  won- 
der ?  lake  enough.  It  be  queer,  —  and  it 's  blowing  from 
the  west  in  this  part  o'  the  Atlantic !  'T  an't  possible  to  saj 
what  point  it  be  in,  hows'ever,  —  not  without  a  compass. 
There  bean't  even  the  glimmer  o'  a  star  in  the  sky ;  and  if 
there  wur  we  could  n't  make  much  o'  it ;  since  the  north 
star  bean't  seen  down  in  these  latitudes.  Thee  be  sure  the 
Bound  come  from  leuart  ?  " 

"  O,  I  am  quite  sure  of  it,  Ben ;  the  voices  came  up  the 
wind." 

"  Then  we  'd  best  go  the  same  way  and  gie  'em  as  wide  a 
berth  as  possible.  Look  alive,  lad !  Let 's  down  wi'  them 
flitches  o'  the  shark-meat :  for  it 's  them  that 's  driftin'  us 
along.  We  '11  take  a  spell  at  the  oars,  and  afore  daylight  we 
may  get  out  o'  hearin'  o'  the  voices,  and  out  of  sight  o'  them 
as  has  been  utterin'  o'  them." 

Both  rose  simultaneously  to  their  feet,  and  commenced 
taking  down  the  slices  of  half-dried  shark-flesh,  and  placing 
them  upon  the  sail-cloth,  —  with  the  intention,  as  the  sailor 
had  counselled  it,  to  unship  the  oars  that  had  been  doing  duty 
as  masts,  and  make  use  of  them  in  their  proper  manner. 

While  engaged  in  this  operation  both  remained  silent,  — 
at  intervals  stopping  in  their  work  to  listen. 

They  had  got  so  far  as  to  clear  away  the  suspended  flitches, 
and  were  about  unfastening  the  cords  where  they  were  looped 
around  the  upright  oars,  when  another  cord,  attached  to  one 
of  the  latter,  caught  their  attention.  It  was  the  piece  of  rope 
which  closed  the  mouth  of  their  tarpauling  water-bag,  and 
held  the  latter  in  such  a  position  as  So  keep  the  "  cask  "  from 
leaking. 

Fortunately  they  were  doing  things  in  a  deliberate  man- 
ner. If  they  had  been  acting  otherwise,  and  had  rashly 
"unstepped"  the  mast  to  which  that  piece  of  rope  was 
attached,  their  stock  of  fresh  water  would  have  been  rapviij 


78  THu.  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

diminished,  —  perhaps  altogether  spilled  into  the  salt  sea, 
before  they  should  have  become  aware  of  the  disaster.  Aa 
it  was,  they  perceived  the  danger  in  good  time ;  and,  instead 
of  taking  down  the  oar,  at  once  desisted  from  their  intention 

It  now  became  a  question  as  to  whether  they  should  pro 
ceed  any  further  in  the  design  of  rowing  the  raft  to  wind- 
ward. With  a  single  oar  they  could  make  but  little  way ; 
and  the  other  was  already  occupied  in  doing  a  duty  frorr 
which  it  could  not  possibly  be  spared. 

It  is  true  there  were  still  left  the  fragments  of  the  hand- 
spike that  had  been  ground  between  the  teeth  of  the  sur- 
viving shark,  and  afterwards  picked  up  as  they  drifted  past 
it.  This  might  serve  instead  of  the  oar  to  support  the  mouth 
of  the  water-bag ;  and  as  soon  as  this  idea  occurred  to  them 
they  set  about  carrying  it  into  execution. 

It  took  but  a  few  minutes  of  time  to  substitute  one  stick 
for  the  other ;  and  then,  both  oars  being  free,  they  seated 
themselves  on  opposite  sides  of  the  raft,  and  commenced  pro- 
pelling it  against  the  wind,  —  in  a  direction  contrary  to  that 
in  which  the  mysterious  voices  had  been  heard. 


CHAPTER    XXIL 

SHIP  AHOY! 

TJHEY  had  not  made  over  a  dozen  strokes  of  their  oars, 
—  which  they  handled  cautiously  and  in  silence,  all  the 
while  listening  intently,  —  when  their  ears  were  again  saluted 
by  sounds  similar  to  those  first  heard  by  little  William,  and 
which  he  had  conjectured  to  be  the  voice  of  a  young  girl. 
As  before,  the  utterance  was  very  low,  —  murmured,  as  if 
repeating  a  series  of  words,  —  in  fact,  as  if  the  speaker  wai 
engaged  in  a  quiet  conversation. 


SHIP  AHOY!  75 

"Shivw  my  timbers  1"  exclaimed  the  sailor,  as  soon  as 
the  voice  again  ceased  to  be  heard.  "If  that  bean't  th« 
palaver  o'  a  little  girl,  my  name  wur  never  Ben  Brace  on  a 
ship's  book.  A  smalley  wee  thing  she  seem  to  be;  not 
bigger  than  a  marlinspike.  It  sound  like  as  if  she  wur 
talkin'  to  some  un.  What  the  Ole  Scratch  can  it  mean, 
WilTm?" 

u  I  don't  know.     Could  it  be  a  mermaid  ?  " 

"  Could  it  ?    In  course  it  could." 

"  But  are  there  mermaids,  Ben  ?  " 

"Maremaids!  Be  theer  maremaids?  That  what  ye 
say  ?  Who  denies  there  ain't  ?  Nobody  but  disbelevin* 
land-lubbers  as  never  seed  nothin'  curious,  'ceptin'  two- 
headed  calves  and  four-legged  chickens.  In  coorse  there  be 
maremaids.  I've  seed  some  myself;  but  I've  sailed  with 
a  shipmate  as  has  been  to  a  part  o'  the  Indyan  Ocean,  where 
there  be  whole  schools  o'  'em,  wi'  long  hair  hangin'  about 
their  ears  an'  over  their  shoulders,  just  like  reg'lar  schools 
o'  young  girls  goin'  out  for  a  walk  in  the  outskirts  o'  Ports- 
mouth or  Gravesend.  Hush !  theer  be  her  voice  again  ! " 

As  the  sailor  ceased  speaking,  a  tiny  treble,  such  as  might 
proceed  from  the  tongue  of  a  child,  —  a  girl  of  some  eight 
or  ten  years  old,  — came  trembling  over  the  waves,  in  tones 
that  betokened  a  conversation. 

A  moment  or  two  elapsed ;  and  then,  as  if  in  reply  to  the 
words  spoken  by  the  child,  was  heard  another  voice,  —  evi- 
dently that  of  a  man ! 

w  If  the  one  be  a  maremaid,"  whispered  Ben  to  his  com- 
panion, "  the  other  must  be  a  mareman.  Shiver  my  tim- 
bers, if  it  ain't  a  curious  confab!  Moonrakers  and  sky 
scrapers  !  what  can  it  mean  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  mechanically  answered  the  boy. 

"  Anyhow,"  continued  the  sailor,  apparen  ly  relieved  by 
the  reflection,  "  It  ain't  the  big  raft.  There  's  no  voice  like 
that  little  'un  among  its  crew  o'  ruffins;  and  that  man.  wlio 


80  THE  OCEAN   WAIl'S. 

•omever  he  be,  don't  speak  like  Le  Gros.     I  only  thought 
BO  at  first,  bein'  half  asleep. 

"  If  it  be  a  school  o'  mareinaids,"  pursued  he,  "  theer  an't 
no  danger,  even  wi'  theer  men  along  wi'  'em.  Leastwise,  I 
never  heerd  say  there  wur  from  maremaids  more  'n  any 
other  weemen;  an'  not  so  much,  I  dare  say.  Sartin  it 
buan't  the  Frenchman,  nor  any  o'  that  scoundrel  crew.  Lord 
o'  mercy !  It  might  be  a  ship  as  is  passing  near  us  ! " 

As  this  thought  occurred  to  the  speaker,  he  raised  himsell 
into  an  erect  attitude,  as  if  to  get  a  better  view. 

« I  '11  hail,  Will'm,"  he  muttered ;  "  I  '11  hail  'em.  Keep 
your  ears  open,  lad;  and  listen  for  the  answer.  Ship 
ahoy  !  " 

The  hail  was  sent  in  the  direction  whence  the  mysterious 
sounds  appeared  to  have  proceeded.  There  came  no  re- 
sponse ;  and  the  sailor,  after  listening  attentively  for  a 
second  or  two,  repeated  the  "  Ship  ahoy ! "  this  time  in  a 
louder  key. 

Quick  as  an  echo  the  words  came  back,  though  it  could 
not  be  an  echo.  There  are  no  echoes  upon  the  ocean  ;  be- 
sides, the  voice  that  repeated  the  well-known  phrase  was 
quite  different  from  that  of  him  who  had  first  pronounced 
it.  Though  different  both  in  tone  and  accent,  it  was  evi- 
dently a  human  voice ;  and,  as  evidently,  that  of  a  man.  A 
rude,  rougli  voice  it  was ;  but  it  is  superfluous  to  say  that, 
to  the  ears  of  Ben  Brace  and  his  youthful  companion,  it 
sounded  sweeter  than  any  music  to  which  they  had  ever 
listened.  The  words  "  Ship  ahoy  !  "  were  soon  succeeded 
by  others,  proceeding  from  the  same  lips. 

"  Gorramity  !"  spoke  the  strange  voice,  "who  de  deb- 
bil  call  dar  ?  Dat  sorae'dy  in  de  boat  ?  Dat  you,  Cap 
ten  ?  Am  it  you,  Massa  Grow  ? " 

"  A  negro,"  muttered  Ben  to  his  companion.  "  It' » 
Snowball,  the  cook.  It  can't  be  anybody  but  him.  In 
the  name  o'  Neptune  how  has  (lie  darkey  got  there  7 


SHIP  AHOYl  81 

What's  he  aboard  o'  ?  He  war  n't  on  the  great  raft  wi 
the  rest.  I  thought  he'd  gone  off  in  the  captain's  gig, 
If  that  wur  so,  then  it  '3  the  boat  that  !s  near  us." 

"No,"  replied  William,  "I'm  sure  I  saw  Snowball  by 
the  caboose  after  the  gig  had  rowed  away.  As  he  was  n't 
with  them  on  the  big  raft,  I  supposed  he  'd  been  drowned, 
or  burned  up  in  the  ship.  Surely  it's  his  voice  ?  There 
it  is  again  ! " 

"  Ship  ahoy  —  hoy  —  hoy  ! "  once  more  came  the  words 
pealing  over  the  water  in  a  loud  prolonged  drawl.  "  Ship 
ahoy,  some'dy  call  out  dar  ?  What  ship  am  dat  ?  Am  it  a 
ship  at  all  ?  Or  am  it  some  o'  de  wreck  Pandoray  ?  " 

"  Castaways,"  responded  Ben.  "  Castaways  of  the  bark 
Pandora.  Who  calls  ?  Snowball  !  Be  it  you  ?  " 

"  Dat  same  chile,  —  who  am  you  ?  Am  it  you,  massa 
Capten,  —  hi  de  gig  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Massa  Grow,  den,  on  de  big  raff  ?  " 

"  Neither,"  responded  the  sailor.   "  It's  Ben,  —  Ben  Brace." 

"  Golly  !  you  say  so,  Massa  Brace  !  How  you  be  dar, 
unless  you  on  de  big  raff?" 

"  I  'm  on  a  raft  of  my  own.     Have  you  one,  Snowball  ?  " 

"  Ya,  massa  Ben,  ya  !  I  make  um  out  o'  de  wreck  an  de 
water-cask." 

"  Are  ye  all  alone  ? " 

"  Not  'zackly  dat.  The  pickaninny  be  long  wi'  me,  —  de 
eabing  gal.  You  know  de  lilly  Lalee  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  she  it  be  ! "  muttered  Ben,  now  remembering  the 
little  cabin  passenger  of  the  Pandora.  "  You  bean't  tnovin , 
be  you  ? " 

"  No,"  responded  Snowball,  "  lying  on  de  water  L'ke  a 
log  o'  'hogany  wood.  Han't  move  a  mile  ebba  sitice  de 
bustin'  ob  de  powder  ball." 

"Keep  yoar  place  then.  We've  got  oars.  We'll  ro* 
down  to  you." 

4»  w 


82  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

«  We  —  you  say  we  ?  You  got  some'dy  sides  yaself  01 
dat  raff?" 

«  Little  Will'm." 

"  Lilly  Willum,  —  ah  ?  dat  ere  brave  lilly  lad.  See  'im 
jess  as  I  go  down  in  de  cabin  fo'  get  de  pickaninny.  See  'ira 
forrard  with  axe,  —  he  knock  off  de  gratin'  ob  de  fore-hatch, 
—  he  set  all  dem  'ere  niggas  free.  It  war  n't  no  use,  —  not 
bit  good  o'  dera.  Dey  all  got  eat  up  by  de  shark,  or  dey  go 
down  straight  to  de  bottom.  Gorramity  !  how  dey  s'riet 
an'  'cream,  an'  jump  overboard  into  de  water  ! " 

Neither  the  sailor  nor  Little  William  paid  any  heed  to 
the  negro's  half-soliloquized  narrative,  further  than  to  make 
use  of  his  voice  to  guide  them  through  the  darkness 
towards  the  spot  whence  it  proceeded.  On  discovering  that 
it  was  Snowball  who  was  near,  both  had  turned  upon  their 
own  craft,  and  were  now  rowing  it  in  the  opposite  direction 
to  that  in  which,  but  the  moment  before,  they  had  been  so 
eagerly  propelling  it. 

As  they  now  pulled  to  leeward,  they  had  the  wind  in  their 
favor ;  and  by  the  time  the  negro  arrived  at  the  end  of  his 
disjointed  narrative,  they  were  within  half  a  cable's  length 
of  him,  and,  through  the  darkness,  were  beginning  to  distin- 
guish the  outlines  of  the  odd  embarkation  that  carried  Snow- 
ball and  his  protege. 

Just  then  the  lightning  blazed  across  the  canopy  of  heav- 
en, discovering  the  two  rafts,  —  each  to  the  other.  In  ten 
seconds  more  they  were  en  rapport,  and  their  respective 
crews  congratulating  each  other,  with  as  much  joyfulnesa 
as  if  the  unexpected  encounter  had  completely  delivered 
them  from  death  and  its  dangers ! 


THE  BAFTS  EN  RAPPORT. 
CHAPTER    XXIII. 

THE  RAFTS   EN  HAPPOBT. 

TWO  travellers  meeting  in  the  midst  of  a  lone  wilder- 
ness,  even  though  strangers  to  each  other,  would  not 
be  likely  to  pass  without  speaking.  If  old  acquaintances, 
then  would  they  be  certain  to  make  the  longest  pause  pos- 
sible, and  procrastinate  their  parting  till  the  last  moment 
allowed  by  the  circumstances.  If  these  circumstances  would 
permit  of  their  reaching  their  respective  destinations  by 
the  same  route,  how  sorry  would  each  be  to  separate,  and 
how  happy  to  enter  into  a  mutual  alliance  of  co-operation 
and  companionship  ! 

Just  like  two  such  travellers,  or  two  parties  of  travellers, 
meeting  in  the  midst  of  the  desert,  —  a  wilderness  of  land, 
—  so  met,  in  the  midst  of  the  ocean,  —  the  wilderness  of 
water,  —  the  two  rafts  whose  history  we  have  hitherto 
chronicled.  Their  crews  were  not  strangers  to  each  other, 
but  old  acquaintances.  If  not  all  friends  in  the  past,  the 
circumstances  that  now  surrounded  them  were  of  a  kind 
to  make  them  friends  for  the  future.  Under  the  awe  in- 
spired by  a  common  danger,  the  lion  will  lie  down  with 
the  lamb,  and  the  fierce  jaguar  consorts  with  the  timid 
eapivara  no  longer  trembling  at  the  perilous  proximity. 

But  there  was  no  particular  antipathy  between  the  crews 
of  the  two  rafts  thus  singularly  becoming  united.  It  ia 
true  that  formerly  there  had  been  some  hostility  displayed 
by  the  negro  towards  Little  William,  and  but  little  friend- 
ship between  the  former  and  Ben  Brace.  These,  however, 
were  things  of  the  past ;  and  during  the  last  days  of  their 
companionship  on  board  the  Pandora  the  sentiments  of  all 
three  had  undergone  a  change.  An  identity  of  interests 
had  oroduced  a  certain  three-cornered  sympathy,  —  ol  "Ster- 


84  THE   OCEAN  WAIFS. 

ating  all  past  spite,  and  establishing,  if  not  positive  friend- 
ship, at  least  a  sort  of  triangular  forgiveness.  Of  course 
this  affection  was  of  the  isosceles  kind,  —  Ben  and  Little 
William  being  the  sides,  and  Snowball  the  base.  It  is 
scarce  necessary  to  say,  that,  meeting  again  under  the  cir- 
cumstances described,  all  past  spite,  had  there  been  any, 
would  have  been  forgiven  and  forgotten. 

Fortunately  this  had  been  already  done.  Between  Ber 
and  Snowball,  and  Snowball  and  Little  William,  the  hatchet 
had  been  long  ago  buried ;  and  they  now  met,  not  as  ene- 
mies, but  as  old  acquaintances,  —  almost  as  friends :  nay, 
we  might  say,  altogether  as  friends.  If  not  so  before,  the 
common  danger  had  made  them  so  now,  and  amicably  did 
they  greet  one  another. 

After  such  an  encounter,  it  is  superfluous  to  say  that  no 
thought  of  again  separating  entered  into  the  minds  of  any 
of  the  party.  The  crews  of  both  rafts  knew  that  their 
destinations  were  identical. 

Each  was  an  ocean  waif,  seeking  to  escape  from  the 
wilderness  of  waters,  —  longing  for  deliverance  from  a  com- 
mon danger.  In  company  they  might  have  a  better  chance 
of  obtaining  it.  Why  should  they  separate  to  search  for  it  ? 

The  question  did  not  occur  to  either,  —  in  thought  or  in 
word.  From  the  moment  of  their  meeting,  instinct  told 
them  that  their  destinies  were  the  same,  —  that  their  action 
in  future  should  be  united. 

After  the  two  rafts  had  collided  together,  and  those  in- 
voluntary but  joyful  salutations  were  exchanged  between 
their  crews,  the  respective  skippers  became  occupied  with 
the  more  serious  business  of  uniting  the  frail  embarkations 
into  one,  and  rendering  them  for  the  future  inseparable. 

"  Snowball ! "  inquired  the  sailor,  "  have  you  got  any  spare 
rope  ?  " 

"  Plenty  o*  dat  'ere,"  responded  the  ex-cook  of  the  Pa» 
dora.  *  Yar  am  a  coil  o'  strong  sinnet.  Dat  do  ?  " 


RECONSTRUCTING  THE  RAFT.  85 

"  That 's  the  stuff,"  responded  Ben.  "  Heave  it  .his  wayi 
ye  son  of  a  sea-cook !  Heave  ! " 

"Now,"  continued  he,  laying  hold  of  the  coil  cf  sennit, 
and  tossing  back  one  end  over  an  empty  water-cask.  "Makfc 
fast  there,  Snowey!  I  dare  say  we  can  lay  alongside  safe 
enough  till  daylight !  After  that  we  '11  splice  together  in  a 
better  sort  o'  way." 

The  ex-cook,  obedient  to  the  injunctions  of  the  seaman, 
seized  hold  of  the  end  of  rope  thrown  to  him,  and  made 
it  fast  to  one  of  the  spars  which  comprised  his  singular 
craft;  while  at  the  same  time  Ben  busied  himself  in  tying 
the  other  end  to  the  piece  of  handspike  erected  upon  hia 
own. 

Soon  each  completed  his  task ;  and  after  some  time  spent 
in  a  mutual  detail  of  the  adventures  that  had  befallen  them 
since  the  hour  of  separation  on  the  deck  of  the  ill-fated 
Pandora,  it  was  agreed  that  all  should  go  to  rest  for  the 
remainder  of  the  night,  and  with  the  earliest  light  of  day 
take  measures  to  perpetuate  the  union  of  the  two  wandering 
waifs  thus  unexpectedly  brought  into  companionship. 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

RECONSTRUCTING   THE   RAFT. 

THE  crews  of  both  rafts  were  astir  by  early  dawn,  the 
sailor  arousing  one  and  all  from  their  slumbers.  The  ris 
ing  sun,  as  it  shone  over  the  ocean,  fell  upon  four  faces,  all 
wearing  a  very  different  expression  from  that  which  they  had 
exhibited  at  his  setting  on  the  day  before.  If  not  positively 
cheerful,  there  was  at  least  hopefulness  in  their  looks :  foi 
their  renewed  companionship  had  mutually  inspired  one  and 


86  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

»11  with  renewed  hopes  of  deliverance.  Indeed,  it  was 
evident  even  to  the  youngest  of  the  party,  that  this  unex- 
pected union  of  strength  would  materially  increase  the 
chances  of  escape  from  the  common  danger ;  since  the  two 
strong  men  working  together  could  do  many  things  that 
would  have  been  impossible  to  either  of  them  alone,  —  to  say 
nothing  of  the  encouragement  and  confidence  always  spring- 
ing from  concerted  action. 

The  very  fact  of  their  having  come  together  in  the  way 
they  had  done  seemed  something  more  than  accidental.  It 
looked  less  like  mere  accident  than  that  they  had  been 
favored  by  the  hand  of  Providence ;  and  even  the  rude  sea- 
man, and  the  still  ruder  sea-cook,  were  only  too  glad  to  give 
way  to  the  fancy  that  Providence  was  interfering  on  their 
behalf. 

Certainly,  the  succession  of  fortunate  events  with  which 
both  had  been  favored,  —  and  which  had  not  only  hitherto 
sustained  them,  but  promised  to  preserve  their  lives  for  a 
still  longer  period,  —  certainly,  these  circumstances  were 
sufficient  to  beget  the  belief  that  they  were  specially  under 
the  protection  of  some  power  less  capricious  than  mere 
chance. 

The  fact  of  their  having  encountered  each  other  —  even 
when  one  of  them  had  been  in  the  act  of  taking  measures 
to  avoid  the  encounter  —  was  of  itself  something  to  strength- 
en this  conviction,  and  increase  their  hopefulness  for  the 
future. 

This  very  effect  it  produced ;  and  it  was  for  that  reason 
that  Ben  Brace  was  so  early  astir,  and  so  early  in  arousing 
the  others. 

The  sailor  had  had  too  much  experience  in  the  capricious- 
ness  of  the  wind  to  believe  that  such  calm  weather  as  they 
had  been  enjoying  for  days  would  last  much  longer ;  and 
he  had  got  up  betimes  with  a  view  of  uniting  the  two  rafts, 
and  strengthening  the  structure  that  might  spring  out  of 


RECONSTRUCTING  THE  RAFT.  „        87 

their  union,  so  that  it  might  resist  whatever  storm  should 
threaten. 

To  attempt  constructing  a  craft  of  such  capability  did  not 
seem  so  hopeless  to  the  skilful  seaman.  Before  it  had  ap- 
peared so ;  but  now,  with  the  materials  composing  the  two 
rafts,  and  others  which  the  morning  sun  disclosed  drifting 
about  upon  the  surface  of  the  sea,  the  thing  looked  less  of 
an  impossibility.  In  fact,  it  did  not  appear  at  all  impossible  ; 
and  for  this  reason  Ben  and  the  black  at  once  came  to  the 
determination  to  attempt  it. 

After  a  short  time  spent  in  deliberation,  it  was  resolved 
to  break  up  the  lesser  raft,  —  that  which  had  hitherto  carried 
the  sailor  and  little  William.  The  planks  composing  it 
could  be  transferred  to  the  larger  and  better  structure  which 
Snowball  had  got  together ;  and  this  was  furthermore  to  be 
reconstructed  and  considerably  enlarged. 

It  was  not  designed  to  make  any  great  alteration  in  tr.e 
shape  or  fashion  which  Snowball  had  chosen  for  his  craft, 
which  displayed  great  ingenuity  on  the  part  of  its  designer. 
As  it  was  deemed  proper  enough,  his  design  was  to  be  re- 
tained, —  only  the  construction  was  to  be  on  a  larger  scale. 

Before  setting  to  work,  it  was  essential  that  something  in 
the  shape  of  a  breakfast  should  be  swallowed.  This  was 
drawn  from  the  stores  which  Snowball  had  been  engaged 
for  days  in  accumulating,  and  consisted  simply  of  biscuit 
and  dried  "bonito." 

In  the  absence  of  any  fire,  the  ex-cook  had  no  opportu- 
nity to  exercise  his  peculiar  vocation,  else  the  meal  might 
have  been  more  palatable.  The  biscuits  from  having  had  a 
Bait  bath  were  a  little  briny  to  the  taste ;  but  that  signified 
little  to  such  sharp  appetites  as  they  were  called  upon  to 
satisfy ;  and  it  was  not  such  a  bad  breakfast,  when  washed 
down,  as  it  was.  with  a  little  wine  and  water. 

You  may  be  asking  whence  came  the  wine ;  and  this  wai 
the  very  question  which  the  sailor  addressed  to  Snowball, 
on  discovering  such  a  commodity  upon  his  craft. 


£8  TI1F   OCEAN   WAIFS. 

The  answer  was  easy  enough.  A  small  cask  of  '*  C» 
nary"  had  been  one  of  the  items  among  the  cabin  stores. 
At  the  explosion  it  had  been  pitched  into  the  sea;  and 
not  being  quite  full  had  freely  floated  on  the  surface. 
Snowball  had  taken  possession  of  it  by  attaching  it  to  his 
timbers. 

Breakfast  over,  the  work  of  reconstruction  commenced. 
As  a  preliminary,  the  flitches  of  shark-meat  were  removed 
from  the  little  raft,  now  doomed  to  destruction ;  while  tliat 
ingenious  contrivance  of  the  sailor,  —  the  canvas  water- 
cask, —  now  no  longer  required,  was  emptied  of  its  con- 
tents ;  which,  with  the  greatest  care,  were  decanted  into  the 
safe  depository  of  one  of  the  empty  hogsheads  that  had 
been  hitherto  acting  as  supports  to  the  embarkation  of 
Snowball. 

The  oars,  sail-cloth,  piece  of  handspike,  axe,  and  tarpaul- 
ing  were  also  transferred  to  the  latter ;  and  then  the  planks, 
and  fragments  of  yards  and  spars,  were  loosed  from  their 
lashings,  and  one  by  one  distributed  into  their  proper  places 
in  the  new  structure. 

All  day  long  did  the  work  continue,  —  only  an  interval 
of  an  hour  being  appropriated  to  the  midday  meal.  Ex- 
cursions, too,  were  made  from  point  to  point,  —  the  oars 
serving  to  propel  the  half-constructed  craft:  the  object  of 
these  excursions  being  to  pick  up  such  pieces  of  timber, 
ropes,  or  other  articles  as  Snowball  had  not  already  se- 
cured. The  aid  of  the  others  now  rendered  many  items 
available  which  Snowball  had  formerly  rejected  as  useless, 
—  because  unmanageable  by  himself  while  acting  alone. 

The  sun  set  upon  their  task  still  unfinished  ;  but  they  re- 
tired hopefully  to  rest :  for  the  sky  promised  a  continuance 
of  the  calm  weather,  and  they  knew  that  if  the  promise  was 
kept,  a  few  hours  in  the  morning  of  the  following  day  would 
suffice  to  complete  the  construction  of  a  raf",  —  one  that 
Would  not  only  give  them  ample  accommodation  for  the  stow 


THE   CATAMARAN.  89 

age  both  of  themselves  and  their  stores,  but  would  in  all 
probability  ride  out  any  gale  likely  to  be  encountered  in 
that  truly  pacific  part  of  the  Atlantic  Ocean. 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

THE    CATAMARAN. 

NEXT  morning,  as  soon  as  there  was  light  enough  for 
them  to  see  what  they  were  about,  the  work  was  re- 
Bumed ;  and  the  timbers  having  been  put  together  in  a 
fashion  to  satisfy  all  hands,  were  lashed  to  one  another  as 
tightly  as  the  united  strength  of  the  sailor,  Snowball,  and 
Little  William  could  draw  the  ropes  around  them. 

The  structure  when  completed  was  of  an  oblong  shape,  — 
somewhat  resembling  a  punt  or  flat-bottomed  ferry-boat,  — 
nearly  twenty  feet  in  length  by  about  half  as  much  in 
breadth  of  beam.  The  empty  hogsheads  were  placed 
around  the  edge  in  a  regular  manner.  One  lay  crosswise 
at  the  head,  while  another  was  similarly  situated  as  re- 
garded the  stern.  The  other  four  —  there  were  six  in  all 
—  were  lashed  lengthwise  along  the  sides,  —  two  of  them 
opposite  each  other  on  the  larboard  and  starboard  bows, 
while  the  other  two  respectively  represented  the  "  quar* 
ters."  By  this  arrangement  a  certain  symmetry  was  ob 
tained;  and  when  the  structure  was  complete,  it  realty 
looked  like  a  craft  intended  for  navigation,  and  by  Ben 
Brace,  —  its  chief  architect,  —  it  was  facetiously  christened 
The  Catamaran. 

By  noon  of  the  second  day  the  Catamaran  was  com 
pleted,  —  so  far  as  the  hull  was  concerned.  Had  Snowball 
been  by  himself  he  would  have  left  it  in  that  state :  for  tht 


90  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

black  did  not  yet  believe  that  there  was  the  slightest  proba 
bility  of  reaching  land  by  means  of  such  an  embarkation. 
But  the  sailor,  —  more  skilled  in  such  matters,  —  was  of  a 
different  way  of  thinking.  He  believed  it  not  only  possible, 
but  probable  enough,  that  this  feat  might  be  accomplished. 
Hfl  knew  that  they  were  in  the  very  centre  of  the  southern 
trade-wind ;  and  that  the  raft,  even  if  left  to  itself,  would 
in  time  drift  onward  to  some  point  on  the  coast  of  South 
America.  With  a  sail  its  speed  would  be  accelerated  ;  and 
although,  thus  furnished,  such  a  clumsy  structure  could  not 
sail  very  swiftly,  there  was  still  a  chance  of  its  carrying 
them  safely,  —  if  slowly,  —  to  land.  Ben  knew  it  was 
simply  a  question  of  time,  —  dependent  upon  how  long 
their  provisions  might  last  them,  —  but  more  especially 
their  supply  of  water. 

Having  formed  in  his  own  mind  a  sort  of  rough  calcula 
tion  as  to  the  chances,  and  finding  them  rather  in  favor  of 
the  scheme,  he  determined  on  making  trial  of  it,  by  erect 
ing  a  mast  upon  the  raft,  and  to  this  bending  a  sail.  At  the 
worst,  their  chances  of  being  picked  up  would  be  quite  as 
good  -while  sailing  with  the  wind,  as  if  they  allowed  them- 
selves to  lie  adrift  upon  the  ocean. 

Fortunately  the  materials  for  both  mast  and  sail  were  on 
hand,  and  in  abundance.  They  had  found  the  "  spanker " 
of  the  Pandora  floating  about,  with  its  boom  and  all  the 
cordage  attached.  By  using  the  boom  as  a  mast,  and 
another  smaller  spar  as  a  boom,  they  could  rig  up  such  a 
sail  as  would  carry  the  Catamaran  through  the  water  with 
considerable  velocity. 

As  soon  as  he  had  fully  considered  it  in  his  own  mind,  the 
sailor,  aided  by  Snowball  and  Little  William,  proceeded  to 
rig  thfe  Catamaran,  and  by  the  close  of  the  third  day  from 
the  commencement  of  their  labors  a  tall  mast  stood  up  out 
of  the  centre  of  that  curious  craft,  midships  between  stem 
and  stern,  with  boom  and  guy,  and  a  broad  sail  hangng 


THE  CATAMARAN.  91 

loosely  along  its  yard,  —  ready  to  be  spread  to  the  first 
breath  of  wind  that  might  blow  westward  over  the  ocean, 

The  breeze  which  had  brought  Ben  and  little  William 
back  among  the  wreck-drift  of  the  slave  bark,  leading  to  a 
renewal  of  intercourse  with  their  old  shipmate,  Snowball, 
had  been  blowing  in  the  contrary  direction  to  that  in  which 
the  sailor  intended  to  steer.  This  breeze,  however,  was  not 
such  as  was  to  be  looked  for  in  that  latitude.  It  was  only  a 
mere  puff,  —  a  cat's-paw,  —  in  the  midst  of  the  calm  that 
had  continued  for  many  days  after  the  destruction  of  the 
slaver.  It  had  lulled  again  on  the  same  night  in  which  the 
rafts  had  become  united ;  and  ever  since,  —  during  the  three 
days  they  had  been  at  work  in  the  construction  of  the  Ca- 
tamaran, —  the  calm  had  continued  without  intermission. 

On  the  fourth  day  things  remained  the  same,  —  not  a 
breath  stirring  from  any  quarter  to  ruffle  the  glassy  surface 
of  the  sea ;  which,  like  a  mirror,  reflected  the  odd  image  of 
the  Catamaran,  with  her  six  hogsheads  set  like  bulwarks 
wound  her  sides,  and  her  stout  mast  tapering  tall  and  soli- 
tary out  of  her  midst. 

Neither  her  captain,  —  Ben  Brace  of  course,  —  nor  those 
of  her  crew  who  were  capable  of  reflecting  on  the  future, 
and  providing  for  its  probable  contingencies,  regretted  thif 
inaction,  —  forced  upon  them  by  the  continuance  of  the 
calm.  Indeed,  although  becalmed,  the  "  Catamarans  "  were 
not  inactive.  There  was  work  worthy  of  their  activity,  am* 
which  occupied  them  during  the  whole  of  the  day.  By  the 
aid  of  oars,  —  several  of  which  were  fortunately  in  their 
possession,  —  they  kept  the  new  craft  in  constant  motion ; 
quartering  the  square  mile  of  sea-surface,  upon  which  floated 
the  fragments  of  the  ill-fated  Pandora. 

Many  a  waif  did  they  pick  up,  and  stow  away  on  their 
new  craft  against  the  contingency  of  some  future  need. 

Among  other  "floating  fragments"  Ben  chanced  npon 
his  own  sea-chest ;  which  secured  him  a  change  of  linen,  — 


92  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

to  say  nothing  of  a  full  suit  of  "  Sunday  go-ashores  "  and  A 
variety  of  knick-knacks  likely  to  prove  of  service  on  the 
problematical  voyage  he  proposed  making. 

The  chest  itself  was  retained  to  serve  as  a  useful 
"locker." 

The  fourth  day  being  spent  in  such  fashion,  the  Catama- 
rans retired  to  rest,  —  little  William,  at  the  request  of  the 
sailor,  repeating  the  Lord's  Prayer,  and  ending  it,  by  the 
dictation  of  the  latter,  with  a  short  petition  for  a  wind  that 
would  waft  them  to  the  westward  ! 

It  seemed  as  if  that  simple  petition  had  been  heard  and 
granted.  As  the  sun  once  more  rose  over  the  ocean,  its 
glossy  surface  became  broken  into  tiny  corrugations  by  a 
breeze  blowing  as  if  from  the  sun  himself.  The  sail  was 
run  up  the  slippery  mast ;  it  was  tightly  sheeted  home  ;  and 
the  Catamaran,  rushing  rapidly  through  the  water,  soon 
cleared  herself  from  that  fatal  spot  where  the  slaver  had 
perished. 

"  Westward  ho ! "  cried  Ben  Brace,  as  he  saw  the  sai 
swell  out,  and  the  craft,  the  product  of  his  own  skill,  walk- 
ing proudly  away  through  the  water  like  a  "  thing  of  life." 

"  Westward  ho ! "  simultaneously  echoed  Snowball  and 
Little  William;  while  the  eyes  of  Lilly  Lalee  sparkled 
with  joy,  as  she  beheld  the  enthusiastic  bearing  of  her  com- 
panions. 


T 


CHAPTER    XXVI 

LITTLE    WILLIAM   AND    LILLY   LALEE. 


sides  blowing  in  the  desired  direction,  it  kept  steady 
continuous,  —  never  rising  above  a  gentlf  breeze,  nor 


LITTLE  WILLIAM  AND  11LLIE  LALEE.  93 

•gain  returning  to  that  calm  from  which  they  had  just  es- 
caped, and  the  recurrence  of  which,  to  the  captain  of  the 
Catamaran,  would  have  been  almost  as  unwekome  as  a 
gale. 

It  was  just  the  sort  of  wind  for  the  trial  of  a  new  craft, 
—  barely  ruffling  the  surface  of  the  sea,  and  yet  filling  the 
sail  till  its  sheet  was  as  taut  as  a  bow-string. 

As  it  blew  direct  from  the  east,  that  part  of  the  Catama- 
ran which  Ben  had  christened  her  head  was  pointed  due 
westward ;  and  to  hinder  the  craft  from  veering  round,  or 
luffing  back  into  the  eye  of  the  wind,  her  builders  had  con- 
structed a  steering  apparatus  at  the  stern.  It  was  simply  a 
very  large  oar,  —  one  that  had  appertained  to  the  long-boat 
of  the  Pandora,  —  placed  fore  and  aft  across  the  swell  of 
the  stern  water-cask.  It  was  held  in  that  position  by  ropes 
attaching  it  to  the  cask,  at  the  same  time  that  they  per- 
mitted it  to  play  through  the  water,  and  perform  the  office 
of  a  rudder.  By  means  of  this  simple  contrivance, — 
which  had  been  rigged  before  starting  on  her  cruise,  —  the 
Catamaran  could  be  steered  to  any  point  of  the  compass, 
and  kept  either  before  the  wind,  or  luffed  up  as  close  to  it 
as  she  was  capable  of  sailing. 

Of  course  it  required  one  or  other  of  them  to  be  always 
at  the  "  wheel,"  as  Ben  facetiously  styled  the  steering  appa- 
ratus, and  the  first  spell  of  this  duty  the  captain  had  taken 
upon  himself,  considering  it  too  important,  —  so  long  as  it 
was  only  on  trial,  —  to  be  intrusted  either  to  Snowball  or 
little  William.  After  they  should  get  fairly  under  way,  and 
there  could  be  no  longer  any  doubt  as  to  the  sailing  quali- 
ties of  the  Catamaran,  both  the  above-mentioned  individ- 
uals would  be  expected  to  take  their  turn  "  at  the  wheel." 

For  more  than  an  hour  the  Catamaran  continued  her 
course,  without  anything  occurring  to  interrupt  the  "even 
tenor  of  her  way."  Her  captain,  seated  in  the  stern,  and 
still  in  charge  of  the  steering  oar,  was  the  orly  one  occu- 


94  THE  OCE.AN  WAIFS. 

pied  in  the  conduct  of  the  craft.  Snowball  was  busy  among 
his  stores,  —  most  of  whish  lay  in  a  mass  amidships,— 
arranging  them  into  some  sort  of  order,  and  placing  each 
article  in  the  most  suitable  position  to  withstand  any  sudden 
assault  of  the  winds  and  waves. 

Little  William  and  Lilly  Lalee  were  far  forward  against 
the  cask  which  represented  the  head  of  the  craft,  and  which, 
being  quite  empty,  stood  high  above  the  surface  of  the 
water. 

Neither  was  engaged  in  any  particular  employment, — 
except  in  talking  kindly  to  each  other,  and  at  intervals  ex- 
changing expressions  of  joy  at  the  fortune  that  had  so  singu- 
larly reunited  them  under  two  such  counageous  protectors. 

It  is  true  that,  on  board  the  slaver,  —  during  that  brief 
voyage,  brought  to  such  an  abrupt  and  disastrous  termination, 
—  the  two  had  seen  but  little  of  one  another,  and  knew  less. 
The  pretty  little  Portuguese  had  been  kept  within  the  cabin, 
never  going  beyond  the  confines  of  the  "  quarter " ;  while 
the  English  lad,  in  continual  fear  of  receiving  rough  treat- 
ment from  either  the  captain  or  mates,  rarely  ventured  within 
that  sacred  precinct  unless  in  obedience  to  some  command 
from  his  dreaded  superiors. 

Then  stayed  he  only  long  enough  to  execute  the  order  as 
speedily  as  possible,  —  knowing  that  to  linger  by  the  cabin 
would  be  to  expose  himself  to  rude  insult,  —  perhaps  to  be 
pitched  into  the  scuppers  or  kicked  back  to  the  forecastle. 

Under  such  disadvantageous  circumstances,  it  is  not  to  be 
wondered  at  that  the  sailor-boy  found  but  few  opportunities 
of  holding  communication  with  the  half-caste  girl,  who,  by 
the  singular  chances  already  stated,  had  been  his  fellow- 
voyager  on  board  the  ill-fated  bark. 

Though  he  had  held  but  slight  converse  with  his  youthful 
compagnon  du  voyage,  and  knew  but  little  either  of  her  moral 
or  intellectual  character,  he  was  nevertheless  most  intimately 
acquainted  with  her  personal  appearance.  There  was  no! 


TOO  LAFE!  95 

A  feature  in  hai  pretxy,  sweet  face,  not  a  ringlet  in  her  jetty 
curling  hair,  with  which  his  eyes  were  not  perfectly  familial 

Ofttimes  had  he  stood,  —  half-screened  behind  the  sails,  — - 
gazing  upon  her  as  she  loitered  by  the  cabin  hatch,  sur- 
rounded by  rude  ruffian  forms,  like  a  little  white  lamb  in  the 
midst  of  so  many  wolves. 

Ofttimes  had  the  sight  caused  his  pulse  to  beat  and  hi? 
keart  to  throb  with  throes  in  which  pain  and  pleasure  were 
equally  commingled,  but  the  cause  of  which  he  could  not 
comprehend. 

Now,  seated  side  by  side  with  this  young  creature  on 
board  the  Catamaran,  —  even  on  that  frail  embarkation, 
which  at  any  moment  might  be  scattered  to  the  winds,  or 
whelmed  under  the  black  billows  of  the  sea,  —  the  sailor-boy 
ao  longer  felt  pain  while  gazing  in  her  face,  but  only  that 
sweet  incomprehensible  pleasure. 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 

TOO   LATE ! 

NEARLY  two  hours  had  transpired  since  the  starting 
of  the  Catamaran,  —  during  which  time  but  little 
change  took  place  in  the  relative  positions  of  those  on  board. 
Then,  however,  Snowball  having  finished  the  stowage  of  his 
stores,  proposed  taking  his  turn  at  steering.  The  offer  was 
willingly  accepted  by  the  sailor,  who,  relinquishing  his  hold 
*pon  the  oar,  went  forward  amidships.  There  he  had 
placed  his  old  sea-c  best ;  and,  kneeling  in  front  of  it,  he 
commenced  rummaging  among  its  contents,  with  the  design 
of  making  himself  more  familiar  with  them,  and  seeing 
whether  he  might  not  discover  some  article  ins?de  that  would 
be  serviceable  under  the  circumstances. 


06  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

William  and  Lilly  Lalee  still  remained  by  the  head,— • 
the  boy  habitually  keeping  a  lookout  over  the  ocean,  but  at 
frequent  intervals  turning  his  glances  towards  her  who  sat 
by  his  side,  and  endeavoring  to  interest  her  with  his  con- 
versation. 

The  girl  could  not  speak  English,  —  only  a  few  phrase* 
which  she  had  picked  up  from  English  or  American  seamen, 
who  had  visited  her  father's  fort  upon  the  African  coast. 
These,  though  by  her  repeated  in  all  innocence,  were 
neither  of  the  most  refined  character,  nor  yet  sufficiently 
comprehensive  to  enable  her  to  hold  any  lengthened  di- 
alogue. It  was  in  her  own  tongue  that  the  conversation 
between  her  and  William  was  carried  on :  for  the  lad  had 
picked  up  a  somewhat  extensive  vocabulary  of  Portuguese 
among  the  sailors  of  the  Pandora,  —  many  of  whom  were 
of  that  nation.  It  was  a  sort  of  "  lingoa  geral "  spoken 
along  the  seaboard  of  Africa,  —  not  unlike  a  similar  Por- 
tuguese patois,  current  on  the  coasts  and  large  rivers  of 
tropical  South  America. 

In  this  language,  little  William,  by  the  aid  of  signs  and 
gestures,  was  able  to  keep  up  an  occasional  conversation 
with  Lilly  Lalee. 

During  the  two  hours  which  the  sailor  had  remained  at 
the  steering  oar,  —  and  for  some  time  after,  —  no  incident 
occurred  to  interrupt  the  tranquillity  of  the  Catamaran'* 
crew. 

A  very  odd  sort  of  fish,  swimming  about  a  cable's  length 
ahead  of  the  craft,  had  attracted  the  attention  of  William 
and  the  girl,  —  exciting  their  curiosity  so  much  as  to  cause 
them  tc  rise  to  their  feet  and  stand  watching  it. 

The  interest  which  this  creature  had  inspired  was  not, 
however,  of  a  pleasant  kind.  On  the  contrary,  both  looked 
upon  it  with  feelings  of  repugnance,  almost  amounting  to 
awe ;  for  it  was  in  reality  one  of  the  ugliest  monsters  to  b« 
met  with  in  the  great  deep 


TOO  LATE!  97 

In  size  it  \>  as  about  equal  to  the  body  of  a  man ;  but 
much  more  elongated,  and  lessening  gradually  towards  the 
tail.  It  seemed  to  possess  a  double  quantity  of  fins,  —  lunat- 
ed  along  their  outer  margins,  and  set  thickly  over  its  body, 
BO  as  to  give  it  a  bristling  aspect.  Unlike  other  fishes,  ita 
neck  was  more  slender  than  its  head  and  shoulders,  — •  im- 
parting to  it  a  sort  of  human  shape.  But  it  was  in  its  head 
that  the  hideousness  of  the  creature  was  more  especially 
conspicuous ;  the  skull  being  prolonged  on  each  side  out- 
wards to  the  distance  of  several  inches,  and  set  upon  its  neck 
after  the  fashion  of  a  mallet  upon  its  shaft !  At  the  end  of 
these  lateral  protuberances  appeared  the  eyes,  with  gleaming 
golden  irides,  glancing  horridly  to  the  right  and  left. 

The  mouth  was  not  less  abnormal  in  shape  and  position. 
Instead  of  being  in  the  hideous  head  already  described,  it 
was  in  the  breast,  —  where  at  intervals  it  could  be  seen 
yawning  wide  open,  and  displaying  a  quadruple  row  of  sharp 
serrated  teeth,  that  threatened  instant  destruction  to  any  sub- 
stance, however  hard,  that  might  chance  to  come  between  them. 

Little  William  knew  not  what  sort  of  fish  it  was ;  for 
though  common  enough  in  some  parts  of  the  ocean,  he  had 
not  had  the  good  or  ill  fortune  to  see  one  before.  As  hia 
companion  had  put  the  question,  however,  —  and  also  to 
satisfy  his  own  curiosity,  —  he  appealed  to  Ben. 

The  latter,  raising  his  eyes  above  the  top  of  his  chest,  and 
looking  in  the  direction  pointed  out  by  the  lad,  at  once  recog- 
nized the  animal  which  appeared  to  have  attached  itself  as 
an  escort  to  the  Catamaran. 

"  Hammer-head  ! "  said  Ben ;  "  a  shark  he  be  ;  an'  the 
ugliest  o'  his  ugly  tribe." 

Saying  this,  the  sailor  once  more  ducked  his  head  under 
the  lid  of  the  chest,  and  continued  his  exploration,  —  alto- 
gether heedless  of  the  "  hammer-head,"  from  whose  pi-oxiraitt 
they  had  nothing  to  fear. 

So  believed  Ben  Brace  at  the  moment- 

5  « 


98  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

It  proved  a  feeling  of  false  security.  In  less  than  te» 
minutes  from  that  time  the  sailor  was  within  six  feet  of  the 
"  hammer-head's "  open  mouth,  —  in  imminent  danger  of 
being  craunched  between  those  quadruple  tiers  of  terrible 
teeth,  and  taken  into  the  monster's  capacious  maw. 

By  the  phrase  *•'  hammer-head,"  so  laconically  pronounced 
by  the  captain  of  the  Catamaran,  little  William  recognized 
»n  the  fish  a  creature  which,  although  never  seen  by  him 
before,  he  had  read  of  in  books,  both  of  travel  and  natural 
history.  It  was  the  "  hammer-head  "  shark,  or  balance-fish, 
so  called  from  the  peculiar  formation  of  its  head,  —  the 
zygcena  of  the  naturalists,  and  one  of  the  most  voracious  of 
that  devouring  tribe  to  which  generically  it  belongs. 

The  individual  in  question  was,  as  is  already  stated,  about 
a  cable's  length  from  the  raft,  right  ahead ;  and  through  the 
translucent  water  its  form  could  be  distinctly  traced  in  all  its 
hideous  outlines.  Swimming  in  the  same  direction,  and  at  a 
like  rate  of  speed,  it  preserved  a  regular  distance  from  the 
raft ;  and  appeared  like  some  guide  or  avant  courier  con- 
ducting the  Catamaran  across  the  Atlantic  ! 

William  and  Lalee  watched  the  fish  for  a  considerable 
time ;  but  as  no  change  took  place  either  in  its  movements 
or  the  position  it  held  in  relation  to  the  raft,  their  curiosity 
at  length  became  satisfied,  and  their  eyes  were  turned  in  a 
different  direction. 

But  the  gaze  of  the  boy-sailor  soon  became  fixed;  and 
upon  an  object  which  caused  him  to  give  utterance  to  two 
distinct  exclamations,  —  distinct  in  point  of  time,  as  different 
?n  signification.  The  first  was  an  ejaculation,  or  rather  a 
aeries  of  phrases  expressing  a  jocular  surprise,  —  the  second 
a  cry  of  serious  alarm. 

"  Ho ! "  cried  he,  on  turning  round  and  glancing  towards 
the  stern  of  the  Catamaran,  "  Snowball  asleep !  Ha !  ha  1 
ha !  See  the  old  sea-cook !  Verily,  the,  steering  oar  has 
escaped  from  his  hand!" 


-  OVERBOARD ! "  99 

Almost  instantly  succeeded  the  shout  that  betokened 
alarm,  followed  by  a  series  of  hurried  phrases,  indicating  the 
danger  itself. 

"  The  boom,  —  the  boom !  'T  is  coming  round !  Look  out, 
Lalee !  look  out ! " 

As  he  gave  utterance  to  these  words  of  warning,  the  boy 
sprang  towards  his  companion,  with  arms  outstretched,  to 
protect  her. 

The  action  came  too  late.  The  steering  oar,  held  in  the 
hands  of  the  sleeper,  hung  suspended  high  above  the  water. 
The  Catamaran,  left  without  control,  luffed  suddenly  round 
beam-end  to  the  wind ;  the  boom  obeyed  the  impulse  of  the 
breeze ;  and  Lilly  Lalee,  uplifted  upon  its  end,  was  brushed 
off  from  the  craft,  and  jerked  far  out  upon  the  blue  bosom 
of  the  ocean ! 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 

"  OVERBOARD  !  " 

THE  cry  came  from  little  William,  as  the  Portuguese 
girl,  lifted  on  the  eud  of  the  boom,  was  pitched  far  out 
into  the  sea. 

The  utterance  was  merely  mechanical ;  and  as  it  escaped 
from  his  lips,  the  sailor-lad  rushed  towards  the  edge  of  the 
raft,  and  placed  himself  in  an  attitude  to  plunge  into  the 
water,  —  with  the  design  of  swimming  to  the  rescue  of 
Lalee. 

Just  then  the  boom,  suddenly  recoiling,  came  back  with  a 
rapid  sweep ;  and,  striking  him  across  the  shins,  sent  him 
sprawling  over  the  shoulders  of  Ben  Brace,  and  right  into 
the  sea-chest,  in  front  of  which  the  sailor  was  still  kneeling. 

Ben  had  h^ard  that  significant  crv  of  alarm,  and  almost 


100  TEE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

simultaneously  the  "plash"  made  by  the  little  Por'ugues* 
as  her  body  dropped  down  upon  the  water.  Ho  had  slewed 
himself  ro  ond,  and  was  making  a  hurried  effort  to  get  to  bis 
feet,  when  the  boy,  flung  with  violence  upon  his  stooping 
back,  once  more  brought  him  to  his  knees. 

As  William  was  chucked  right  over  him  into  the  chest 
tho  sailor  uoon  recovered  from  the  shock,  and  rising  erect, 
ciii*d  out  iu  a  half-confused  manner,  — "  Overboard !  Who  ? 
W.uere  ?  Not  you,  Will'm !  What  is 't,  boy  ?  " 

'  G  jrteu  I  Ben  ! "  answered  William,  as  he  lay  kicking 
among  the  contents  of  the  kit,  "  Lilly  Lalee,  she 's  knocked 
overbo.«ra  by  the  boom !  Save  her !  save  her ! " 

The  sa.ioi  needed  neither  the  information  nor  the  appeal 
thus  avldieise-i  to  him.  His  interrogations  had  been  alto- 
gether meoli*  lical,  for  the  plunge  he  had  heard,  and  the 
absence  of  tL«  giil  from  the  raft,  —  ascertained  by  a  single 
glance,  —  told  trim  which  of  the  Catamaran's  crew  it  was 
who  had  fallen  overboard. 

The  circling  edJies  in  the  water  showed  him  the  spot 
where  the  girl  \  ad  gone  down  ;  but,  just  as  he  got  to  his  feet 
again,  she  had  ."eturned  to  the  surface ;  and,  uttering  half- 
stifled  screams,  i  ommenctd  buffeting  the  water  with  her  tiny 
hands,  in  an  instinctive  endeavor  to  keep  herself  afloat 

In  a  crisis  of  this  character,  the  brave  English  sailor  was 
obstructed  by  rw)  ambiguity  as  to  how  he  should  act  A 
single  bound  earned  him  across  the  Catamaran,  —  another 
landed  him  upon  the  top  of  one  of  the  casks,  and  a  third 
launched  him  six  feet  outward  into  the  sea.  Had  he  been 
apprised  of  the  accident  only  a  score  of  seconds  sooner, 
less  than  that  number  of  strokes  would  have  sufficed  him 
to  reach  the  spot  where  the  child  had  first  fallen  into  the 
water.  Unfortunately  in  the  collision  with  little  William, 
that  had  brought  him  back  to  his  knees,  some  time  had  been 
expended.  During  this  interval  —  short  as  it  was  —  the 
waft,  though  under  an  uncontrolled  sail,  was  still  making 


"OVERBOARD!"  101 

considerable  way ;  and  when  the  rescuer  at  length  vaccecded 
in  leaping  from  the  cask,  the  struggling  form  had  fallen  irto 
the  wake  of  the  Catamaran  to  the  distance  of  nearly  a 
cable's  length. 

If  the  girl  could  only  keep  afloat  for  a  few  minutes,  there 
need  be  no  great  danger.  The  sailor  knew  that  he  could 
swim,  sustaining  a  heavier  weight  than  was  the  little  Lalee. 
But  it  was  evident  the  child  could  not  swim  a  stroke,  and 
was  every  moment  in  danger  of  sinking  for  the  second 
time. 

Her  rescuer  perceived  this  danger  as  he  started  to  her 
aid ;  and  therefore  pressed  rapidly  towards  her,  cleaving  the 
water  with  all  the  strength  that  lay  in  his  muscular  arm* 
and  limbs. 

Meanwhile  little  William  had  also  regained  his  feet ;  and, 
having  extricated  himself  from  the  chest  in  which  he  had 
been  temporarily  encoffined,  ran  towards  the  after  part 
of  the  raft.  Quickly  mounting  upon  the  water-cask  at  the 
stern,  he  stood  astride  the  steering  oar,  —  an  anxious  and 
trembling  spectator, — his  eyes  alternately  fixed  on  the  strong 
swimmer  and  the  struggling  child. 

Snowball -was  still  dormant,  buried  in  a  slumber  profound 
and  uncgnscious,  —  such  as  only  a  "  darkey "  can  enjoy 
The  cry  "  Overboard ! "  uttered  by  little  William  had  made 
no  impression  upon  the  tympanum  of  his  wide-spread  ears, 
—  nor  the  exclamations  that  succeeded  in  the  harsher  voice 
"of  the  sailor.  Equally  unheard  by  him  had  been  the  scream 
coming  across  the  water,  though  along  with  it  he  might  have 
heard  the  utterance  of  his  own  name ! 

As  none  of  these  sounds  had  been  suffic.'ent  to  arouse 
him  from  his  torpor,  he  was  likely  to  remain  for  some  time 
longer  unconscious  of  what  was  occurring.  The  sailor  swam 
in  silence,  —  the  cries  of  the  child,  now  more  distant,  were 
growing  feebler  and  feebler  ;  while  little  William  —  Snow- 
ball's only  companion  upon  the  raft  —  was  too  much  ab- 


102  THE   OCEAN   WAIFS. 

lorbed  in  the  scene  and  its  issue  to  allow  even  a  breath  tt 
escape  him. 

In  this  moment  of  agony,  —  intense  to  all  the  others  of 
the  Catamaran's  crew,  —  Snowball  was  sleeping  as  soundly 
and  sweetly  as  if  he  had  been  stretched  along  the  bench 
of  hia  cabocse,  and  rocked  to  rest  by  the  undulations  of  a 
good  ship  going  at  easy  sail. 

Up  to  this  time,  William  had  not  thought  of  awakening 
him ;  for,  to  say  the  truth,  the  boy  had  not  yet  quite  re- 
covered his  presence  of  mind.  The  shock  of  consternation 
caused  by  the  accident  was  still  vibrating  through  his  brain ; 
and  his  actions,  in  running  aft,  and  springing  up  on  the  cask, 
were  half  mechanical.  There,  enchained  by  the  spectacle, 
and  waiting  with  intense  anxiety  for  its  denouement,  he  had 
not  a  thought  to  give  either  to  Snowball  or  his  slumberings. 

The  silence  continued  only  for  a  short  period  of  time, 
though  it  may  have  seemed  long  enough  both  to  actors  and 
spectator  in  that  thrilling  drama.  It  was  terminated  by  a 
cry  of  joyous  import  from  the  lips  of  little  William,  —  in 
short,  a  loud  hurrah,  evoked  by  his  seeing  the  swimmer 
come  en  rapport  with  the  child,  raise  her  sinking  form  above 
the  surface,  and  holding  it  in  one  hand,  strike  out  with  the 
Other  in  the  direction  of  the  raft. 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

SAVED  I 


«T)RAVE   Ben!  — brave  fellow!    he  las  sa^ed  her! 

Jj  Hurrah!" 

Whether  it  was  the  violent  gestures  that  accompanied  this 
sbullition  of  feeling  that  caused  the  water-cask  to  lurch 


SAVED i  103 

from  onder  his  feet,  —  or  whether  it  arose  from  his  nervous 
system  suddenly  bscoming  relaxed  after  such  a  spell  of 
intense  anxiety,  —  certain  it  is  that  the  sailor-lad,  as  he 
repeated  the  final  "  Hurrah ! "  lost  his  balance  upon  the 
i*,ask,  and,  staggering  over,  he  fell  with  all  his  weight  upon 
the  prostrate  body  of  the  slumbering  sea-cook. 

The  latter,  in  his  sleep  more  sensible  to  touch  than  hear- 
ing, was  at  length  aroused. 

"  Gorramity ! "  cried  he,  suddenly  starting  to  his  knees, 
and  endeavoring  to  disembarrass  himself  of  the  weight  of 
little  William,  still  scrambling  upon  his  back.  "Gorramity! 
What  all  dis  fraca  'bout  ?  Someb'dy  shout  '  Hurrah  ? '  — 
Ha !  you,  lilly  Willy  ?  you  shout  dat  jess  now  ?  I  tink  I 
hear  ye  in  ma  'leep.  What  for  you  hurrah  ?  Golly !  am 
dar  a  ship  in  sight  ?  I  hope  dar  am  —  Wha's  Mass' 
Brace  ?  —  wha's  de  lilly  gal  ?  Augh  ?  " 

This  string  of  interrogations  was  put  in  such  rapid  succes- 
sion as  to  give  the  lad  no  opportunity  of  replying  to  them. 
But,  indeed,  a  reply  was  not  needed,  as  may  be  deduced 
from  the  final  ejaculation  of  the  questioner. 

Snowball,  having  swept  the  surface  of  the  Catamaran 
with  a  quick,  searching  glance,  and  missing  from  it  not  only 
its  captain,  but  —  what  was  of  greater  moment  —  his  own 
protege,  became  equally  the  victim  of  surprise  and  conster- 
nation. 

His  eye  was  at  once  turned  towards  the  water ;  and,  like 
all  men  accustomed  to  the  sea,  was  intuitively  directed  stem- 
ward.  The  missing  individuals  could  not  be  elsewhere  than 
in  the  wake  of  the  craft  going  under  sail. 

He  was  soon  satisfied  of  the  correctness  of  his  conjecture. 
On  the  instant  of  his  turning  he  beheld  Ben  Brace,  —  or 
rather,  only  the  head  of  that  individual,  — just  visible  above 
the  rippling  surface  of  the  sea.  Close  by  was  another  head 
of  smaller  size,  with  dark  ringlets  floating  on  both  sides  of 
it,  and  a  tiny  arm  stretched  out  and  apparently  clinging  to 
the  shoulder  of  the  seaman. 


104  THE   OCEAN  WAIFS. 

Snowball  needed  no  one  —  not  even  little  William — -ta 
interpret  what  he  saw.  At  a  glance  he  comprehended  whal 
had  occurred  during  his  sleep,  —  all  except  the  cause.  Lit- 
tle did  he  suspect  that  the  disaster  had  its  origin  in  his  own 
negligence.  But  it  did  not  need  that  thought  to  beget  within 
him  a  feeling  of  anxiety,  —  or,  rather,  of  intense  alarm. 

This  feeling  did  not  arise  on  the  instant.  Seeing  the  girl 
sustained  by  such  a  strong  swimmer  as  he  knew  his  old 
shipmate  to  be,  he  had  but  little  fear  for  the  result,  —  so 
little  that  he  checked  his  first  impulse,  which  was  to  leap 
overboard  and  swim  to  the  assistance  of  both. 

A  moment's  reflection,  however,  satisfied  him  that  there 
was  still  danger  both  for  Lalee  and  her  brave  rescuer,  —  a 
danger  which  little  William  while  giving  utterance  to  that 
joyful  "  Hurrah ! "  had  not  taken  into  account.  The  lad 
had  seen  the  girl  picked  up  by  the  strong  seaman;  and, 
having  an  unlimited  faith  in  the  prowess  of  his  own  protec- 
tor, he  had  no  other  thought  than  that  the  latter  would  soon 
swim  back  to  the  Catamaran,  bearing  his  light  burden  along 
with  him. 

In  his  joy  little  William  had  overlooked  the  circumstance 
that  the  Catamaran  was  under  sail,  and  moving  through 
the  water  at  a  rate  of  speed  that  the  swiftest  swimmer,  un- 
embarrassed with  the  slightest  weight,  might  in  vain  attempt 
to  overtake  her ! 

This  sinister  circumstance,  in  the  excitement  of  the  hour 
overlooked  by  the  youthful  sailor,  was  even,  for  a  moment, 
unthought  of  by  the  more  experienced  mariner,  —  for  Snow- 
ball, in  addition  to  being  a  sea-cook,  was  also  a  competent 
seaman.  Not  for  long,  however,  did  the  latter  continue 
unconscious  of  the  danger.  Almost  on  the  instant  did  he 
perceive  it ;  and  quickly  squatting  himself  in  front  of  the 
cask,  he  took  hold  of  the  steering-oar,  —  which  he  had  so 
culpably  neglected,  —  and,  although  still  ignorant  of  the  fact 
that  his  own  negligence  had  caused  the  disaster,  he  bent  all 
his  energies  towards  remedying  it 


THE  ZYGJ1NA.  105 

Under  iLe  strong  arm  of  the  Ooromantee,  the  Catamaran 
Was  fast  coming  round  towards  the  wind,  —  and  so  shorten 
ing  the  distance  between  the  swimmer  and  the  craft,  —  when 
an  object  came  under  the  eye  of  her  steersman  that  caused 
him  to  drop  the  oar  as  if  either  his  arm  had  become  sud- 
denly paralyzed,  or  the  piece  of  rounded  ash  grasped  be- 
tween his  hands  had  become  transformed  into  a  bar  of  red- 
hot  iron ! 

The  former  it  could  not  be ;  since  paralyzed  arms  could 
not  act,  as  did  those  of  Snowball  on  that  instant.  On  drop- 
ping the  oar,  his  right  hand  was  suddenly  carried  towards 
his  left  thigh,  where  a  long  knife  hung  suspended  m  ita 
sheath.  Upon  the  hilt  of  this  his  fingers  rested  for  a  mo- 
ment, evidently  not  with  the  intention  of  drawing  it,  but 
apparently  to  assure  himself  that  the  knife  was  in  its 
place. 

In  an  instant  the  hand  was  withdrawn ;  but  during  the 
action  the  negro  had  hastily  risen  to  his  feet ;  and,  having 
already  abandoned  the  oar,  he  rushed  towards  the  edge  of 
the  raft  and  leaped  overboard  into  the  water ! 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

THE   ZTQ^NA. 

THE  conduct  of  the  Coromantee  in  thus  relinquishing 
the  rudder  and  springing  overboard  into  the  sea  was 
inexplicable,  —  at  least,  to  little  William  it  seemed  so  for  the 
time.  What  could  be  Snowball's  object  in  taking  to  the 
water?  The  sailor's  strength  was  sufficient  to  sustain  both 
himself  and  the  little  girl.  He  appeared  to  have  no  diffi- 
culty in  holding  her  above  the  surface ;  and  as  to  getting 

6» 


106  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

back  to  the  raft,  Snowball  was  surely  doing  more  seiviee  in 
steering  the  raft  towards  them  ?  Had  he  continued  at  tli« 
Bidder  a  few  minutes  longer,  the  Catamaran  must  have 
come  very  near  where  the  swimmer  was  struggling ;  where* 
as,  on  his  dropping  the  oar,  she  once  more  luffed  round,  and 
began  to  make  way  in  the  opposite  direction. 

Little  William,  however,  did  not  observe  this  sinister  cir- 
cumstance ;  or  if  he  did,  it  was  for  the  moment  driven  out 
of  his  mind  by  one  still  more  sinister,  that  just  then  came 
under  his  observation. 

Only  for  a  few  seconds  had  he  remained  watching  the  ne- 
gro, and  wondering,  with  unpleasant  thoughts,  why  the  latter 
before  leaping  overboard  had  half  drawn  the  knife  from  hia 
belt  and  then  resheathed  it.  Something  like  a  suspicion 
passed  through  the  mind  of  the  youth.  What  could  the  ne- 
gro want  with  a  knife,  if  his  object  was  to  give  help  to  the 
swimmer?  Could  a  fiendish  conception  have  occurred  to 
the  Coromantee,  to  lessen  the  number  of  those  who  might 
require  food  and  water? 

It  is  true  the  suspicion  had  barely  shaped  itself  in  the 
brain  of  the  boy.  Still,  it  had  shaped  itself,  to  be  succeeded 
by  a  feeling  of  remorse  for  the  wrong  which  he  had  done 
to  Snowball  in  entertaining  it. 

Almost  on  the  instant  did  he  become  conscious  of  this 
wrong,  by  an  object  coming  under  his  eyes  and  which  at 
once  accounted  for  the  conduct  of  the  Coromantee,  that  had 
seemed  strange.  Snowball  was  swimming  towards  Bea 
Brace,  —  not  to  destroy,  —  but  with  the  intention  of  saving 
him. 

From  what  ?  Was  the  sailor  really  in  danger  of  sinking, 
BO  as  to  stand  in  need  of  support  both  for  himself  and  his 
burden  ? 

Little  William  did  not  put  such  an  interrogatory.  AH 
his  conjectures  were  ended.  The  peril  threatening  hia 
patron,  —  and  little  Lalee  as  well,  —was  plainly  outlined 


THE  ZYGJ1NA.  107 

before  his  eyes,  in  all  its  frightful  reality.  That  fluttish, 
dark  disc,  with  lunetted  edge,  rising  erect  above  the  surface, 
and  cutting  keenly  through  the  rippling  water,  was  an  object 
not  to  be  mistaken  for  any  moving  thing  met  with  amid  the 
ocean,  save  the  dorsal  fin  of  a  shark  ,  and  William  knew  at 
a  glance  that  such  in  reality  it  was. 

He  saw,  moreover,  it  was  the  same  he  itid  little  Lalee 
had  so  late  been  contemplating  in  security,  —  the  dreaded 
zygaena :  for  through  the  translucent  water  he  could  dis- 
tinguish its  hammer-shaped  head,  and  lurid  eyes  gleaming 
out  from  their  protuberant  sockets,  —  hideous  to  behold ! 

The  boy  now  became  spectator,  —  sole  spectator,  —  of  a 
scene  of  thrilling,  even  terrible  interest.  The  characters 
in  the  drama  were  Snowball,  the  zygaena,  and  Ben  Brace 
with  his  burden. 

Just  as  William  had  arrived  at  the  comprehension  of  the 
Coromantee's  behavior,  the  dramatis  personce  were  placed 
relatively  to  each  other  in  a  triangular  position,  —  an  isosce- 
les triangle,  in  which  Snowball  and  the  shark  represented 
the  angles  at  the  base,  while  Ben  with  his  charge  occupied 
the  apex.  The  latter  point  was  almost  stationary,  while 
both  the  former  were  moving  towards  it  in  converging  lines, 
fast  as  shark  and  man  could  swim. 

The  situation  was  easily  explained.  The  zygajna,  hith- 
erto holding  its  course  ahead  of  the  Catamaran,  had  become 
apprised  of  the  catastrophe  occurring  among  the  crew.  The 
plash  occasioned  by  little  Lalee  as  she  was  flung  upon  the 
water,  and  the  heavier  concussion  of  Ben's  body  as  he 
plunged  overboard,  had  reached  the  monster's  ears;  and, 
with  that  fell  instinct  peculiar  to  its  tribe,  it  had  suddenly 
turned  in  the  water,  and  commenced  swimming  toward*  the 
tfake  of  the  craft;  where  it  knew  that  anything,  whether 
human  or  otherwise,  falling  overboard,  must  inevitably  drift. 

While  passing  the  Catamaran  towards  the  wake,  Snow- 
ball had  caught  sight  of  its  fan-like  fin,  —  which  apprised 


108  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

him  of  the  direction  it  was  taking,  at  the  same  time  reveal 
ing  to  him  its  design. 

The  plunge  which  Snowball  had  made  as  he  sprang  out 
into  tLs  water  had  caused  the  zygaena  to  swerve  from  its 
course ;  and  for  some  moments  it  swam  towards  him,  as  if 
determined  upon  changing  the  object  of  its  attack;  but 
whether  not  liking  the  looks  of  the  Coromantee  or  frayed 
by  his  bold  attitude  in  making  directly  towards  it,  it  shied 
back  into  its  former  course,  and  kept  on  towards  the  others. 

Of  course,  the  sailor,  encumbered  as  he  was  by  the  half- 
lifeless  form  of  the  girl,  would  stand  but  little  chance  of 
making  a  successful  defence  against  a  shark,  —  more  espe- 
cially such  a  monster  as  the  zygaena;  and  it  was  the  knowl- 
edge of  this  that  had  summoned  Snowball  to  the  rescue. 

Against  such  an  adversary  a  more  capable  combatant 
than  the  Coromantee  could  scarce  have  been  found  on  the 
waters  of  the  ocean,  or  even  in  them.  He  could  swim  like 
a  swan,  and  dive  like  a  sea-duck ;  nor  was  it  the  first  time 
for  him  to  have  fought  the  shark  in  its  own  element ;  neither 
would  it  be  the  first  time  should  he  prove  conqueror  in  the 
combat. 

On  launching  into  the  lists,  his  chief  dread  had  not  been 
for  himself,  but  for  those  he  was  proceeding  to  rescue. 

In  point  of  time  the  shark  had  had  the  start  of  him ;  and, 
although  on  parting  from  the  raft  the  distances  each  would 
have  to  traverse  were  not  very  unequal,  Snowball  kne\i 
that  his  scaly  competitor  far  excelled  him  in  the  quality  of 
speed. 

It  was  this  thought  that  was  causing  him  anxiety,— 
amounting  almost  to  anguish,  —  that  caused  him  to  plung* 
wildly  through  the  water,  —  to  utter  loud  cries,  and  make 
other  noisy  demonstrations,  —  with  a  view  of  distracting  the 
attention  of  the  zygaena  from  the  victims  it  had  forechosen, 
and  drawing  its  attack  upon  himself. 

Ilis  shouts  and  gesticulations  proved  equally  unavailable 


THE  ZYG^NA.  109 

The  cunning  zygaena  took  no  heed  of  either ;  but  with  itf 
dark  tlorsal  fin,  set  like  a  well-bent  sail,  it  kept  straight  on 
towards  the  easier  victims. 

The  sides  of  the  isosceles  triangle  were  gradually  growing 
unequal,  —  gradually  and  slowly,  but,  alas  !  surely.  Already 
was  it  an  irregular  scalene.  Snowball  perceived  the  change, 
—  each  moment  becoming  more  perceptible,  each  moment 
augmenting  his  fears.  r 

"  Poor  lilly  Lally ! "  cried  he,  in  a  voice  that  betrayed  hii 
inxiety.  "  O  Mass'  Ben !  fo'  de  lub  o'  Gorramity,  swum 
to  de  right,  —  round  dat  away,  an'  let  me  git  'tween  you  an 
de  ravenin'  beast  To  de  right !  —  da  '3  de  way.  Do  yer 
bess,  Mass'  Brace,  an'  gi'  me  time  get  up.  I  take  care  o'  de 
lubber  ef  I  once  get  im  din  reach  o'  dis  chile's  arm." 

The  injunction  thus  uttered  had  the  desired  effect.  Up  to 
that  time  the  sailor,  sunk  low  in  the  water  by  reason  of  the 
extra  weight,  had  not  become  fully  cognizant  of  the  peril  of 
his  position.  Hitherto  his  mind  had  been  more  occupied 
with  the  idea  of  overtaking  the  raft,  than  any  danger  to  be 
dreaded  from  sharks.  He  was  not  even  aware  of  the  zygae- 
na's  approach ;  for  the  fin,  which  had  betrayed  the  monster's 
presence  to  those  on  the  Catamaran,  —  from  being  seen  en 
profile,  —  could  not  so  easily  be  distinguished  wlren  viewed 
in  "front-face."  No  wonder,  therefore,  that  the  victims 
which  the  zygsena  had  selected  for  its  attack  remained  un- 
conscious of  its  approach  ;  and  it  was  only  on  seeing  Snow- 
ball spring  out  from  the  Catamaran,  and  swim  towards  him, 
that  the  sailor  suspected  the  proximity  of  a  shark.  A.1  the 
same  instant,  also,  he  remembered  the  interrogatory  that  had 
been  addressed  to  him  by  little  William,  and  his  own  laconic 
reply  designating  the  individual  as  a  hammer-head.  From 
these  various  circumstances  he  could  tell  that  there  was  a 
shark  bearing  down  upon  him ;  but  in  what  direction  he 
could  not  conjecture,  until  the  hurried  words  of  Snowball 
admonished  him  to  "  make  way  to  de  right," 


110  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

The  sailor  had  too  much  respect  for  the  experience  of  the 
ex-cook  to  disregard  the  injunctions  thus  given ;  and  ot 
hearing  them,  he  at  once  swerved  in  the  direction  indicated, 
and  "  made  way  to  de  right "  as  fast  as  a  man  could  swim 
with  only  one  hand  free  for  the  stroke. 

Fortunately  for  all  parties,  the  one  arm  proved  sufficient 
The  new  direction  entered  upon  by  the  swimmer  soon 
changed  the  relative  position  of  all  parties.  The  triangle 
became  resolved  into  a  right  line,  —  the  shark  at  one  ex- 
tremity, —  the  sailor  with  his  charge  at  the  other,  —  Snow- 
ball midway  between! 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 

FACE   TO    FACE. 

BY  this  change  in  the  position  of  the  parties,  the  zy- 
gzena  had  lost  its  advantage.  Instead  of  having  for 
the  object  of  its  attack  an  exhausted  swimmer  encumbered 
with  a  weight,  without  a  weapon,  or  even  an  arm  free  to 
wield  one,  it  would  now  have  for  its  antagonist  a  strong 
man,  —  fresh  and  vigorous,  —  armed  with  a  long-bladed 
knife ;  one,  moreover,  who  from  earliest  youth  had  lived  a 
half-amphibious  life,  and  who  was  almost  as  much  at  home 
in  the  water  as  the  shark  itself.  At  all  events,  the  Coro- 
mantee  could  calculate  on  keeping  himself  above  water  for 
several  hours  without  rest,  and  under  it  as  long  as  any  other 
animal  whose  natural  element  was  the  earth  or  the  air. 

Snowball,  however,  had  no  intention  to  go  tinder,  —  not 
an  inch  deeper  than  he  could  possibly  help :  for  therein 
would  lie  his  danger,  and  he  knew  it.  As  we  have  already 
said,  it  was  not  the,  first  time  for  him  to  encounter  a  shark 


FACE  TO  FACE.  Ill 

in  its  own  element;  and  though,  perhaps,  not  so  familial 
with  the  hammer-hexd  as  with  the  white  shark,  he  was  nol 
altogether  unacquainted  with  the  habits  and  peculiarities  of 
the  former  species. 

He  knew  that  the  zygaena,  like  others  of  its  congeners,  in 
seizing  an  object,  requires  to  have  that  object  under  it ;  oth- 
erwise, it  is  compelled  to  turn  upon  its  back  or  side,  just  in 
proportion  as  the  prey  it  would  seize  lies  high  or  low  in  the 
water.  If  altogether  on  the  surface,  the  shark  is  forced  to 
make  a  complete  roll,  belly  upward ;  and  this  necessity,  — 
arising  from  the  peculiar  position  of  the  animal's  mouth, 
and  the  conformation  of  its  jaws,  —  is  well  known  among 
mariners,  and  better  among  true  shark-fighters,  who  use  it 
to  their  advantage. 

Among  the  pearl-divers  of  the  Vermilion  Sea  (Gulf  of 
California),  the  attack  of  the  common  shark  is  but  little 
dreaded.  The  only  weapon  used  by  them  is  a  piece  of 
stick  (the  estacd),  sharpened  at  both  ends,  and  hardened  by 
fire.  Provided  with  this  simple  weapon,  which  they  carry, 
stuck  through  a  loop  in  their  leathern  belt,  they  dive  with- 
out fear  among  the  sharks  that  frequent  the  waters  of  the 
pearl-oyster  fishery.  "When  attacked  by  one  of  these  vora- 
cious creatures,  they  wait  for  the  moment  when  the  shark 
makes  its  semi-somersault,  and  opens  its  cavernous  mouth. 
Then,  with  an  adroitness  drawn  from  practice,  and  a  fear- 
lessness which  only  great  confidence  can  give,  they  thrust 
the  estaca,  gag-fashion,  between  the  creature's  jaws,  leaving 
it  no  alternative  but  to  retreat  with  its  jaws  wide  open,  or  to 
close  them  to  its  own  certain  destruction.  Among  these 
pearl-fisheries,  however,  a  species  of  shark  occasionally 
shows  itself  that  cannot  be  destroyed  in  such  a  simple  fash- 
ion. It  is  known  as  the  tintorera,  and  is  as  much  dreaded 
by  the  pearl-divers  as  the  common  shark  is  by  the  ordinary 
mariner. 

Fierce  as  is  the  zyg?ena  and  dr  jaded  above  all  others  rf 


112  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

its  tribe,  —  half  the  dread  no  doubt  is  attributable  to  iti 
hideous  configuration.  Snowball  knew  that  before  it  could 
injure  him,  it  must  make  the  half-turn,  and,  therefore,  ap- 
proached it  with  the  determination  to  keep  well  upon  the 
surface  of  the  water,  and  not  let  it  get  above  him. 

The  conflict  was  now  inevitable :  for  the  shark,  although 
apparently  a  little  put  about  by  the  transposition  that  had 
taken  place,  had  determined  upon  having  a  meal  of  human 
flesh.  Its  white  victims  had  escaped  it  for  the  time,  but  it 
was  not  particular  as  to  the  color  of  the  skin,  and  Snowball 
might  be  as  sweet  to  its  palate  as  Ben  Brace  or  Lilly  Lalee. 

We  are  not  going  to  assert  that  it  reasoned  after  this 
fashion,  or  that  any  thoughts  whatever  passed  through  its 
huge  mallet-shaped  skull.  Indeed,  there  was  not  much  time 
for  reflection :  for  as  Snowball  interposed  his  body  between 
the  zygaena  and  its  intended  victims,  the  woolly  head  of  the 
Coromantee  and  the  hammer-head  of  the  shai'k  were  scarcely 
three  lengths  of  a  handspike  from  each  other. 

It  was  a  fearful  situation  for  a  human  being  to  be  in ;  and 
any  other  than  an  old  shark-fighter  would,  at  such  a  moment, 
have  succumbed  from  sheer  terror. 

Not  so  Snowball,  who  appeared  to  enter  the  lists  with  as 
little  dread  and  as  much  confidence  as  if  hisfetisch  had  given 
him  full  assurance  of  victory. 

Little  William,  standing  upon  the  stern  of  the  Catamaran 
with  suspended  breath,  noting  every  turn  of  the  spectacle, 
could  see  Snowball  drawing  the  knife  from  his  belt.  Not  for 
long,  however,  did  he  hold  it  clutched  in  his  hand.  For 
greater  convenience,  and  to  give  his  hands  free  play,  while 
evading  the  attacks  of  his  finny  antagonist,  he  transferred 
the  knife  to  his  mouth,  where  it  was  seen  set  transversely 
across  his  cheeks,  the  blade  tightly  held  between  his  teeth. 
In  this  strange  fashion  did  Snowball  meet  his  er,emy,  —  th« 
truculent  tyrant  of  the  deep. 


A  RING  PERFORMANCE.  118 

CHAPTER   XXXII 

A   RING   PERFORMANCE. 

IT  might  be  supposed  that  the  shark  would  have  rushed 
instantaneously  upon  its  antagonist,  regardless  of  aught 
lave  making  a  meal  of  him.  But  no,  the  zygaena,  notwith- 
standing its  great  voracity,  like  the  rest  of  its  tribe,  is  endowed 
with  certain  instincts  of  caution.  The  sea-tiger,  as  well  as 
that  of  the  land,  can  tell  instinctively  whether  the  object  of 
its  attack  is  likely  to  become  an  easy  prey,  or  turn  out  a 
dangerous  adversary. 

Some  such  —  shall  we  call  it  an  idea  ?  —  seemed  to  enter 
the  unshapely  skull  of  the  hammer-head,  —  suggested  no 
doubt  by  the  bold  attitude  which  Snowball  had  assumed. 
In  all  likelihood,  had  the  negro  been  making  away,  instead 
of  swimming  towards  it,  and  showing  signs  of  a  desire  to 
escape,  its  onset  would  have  been  made  on  the  instant. 

As  it  was,  the  shark  saw  itself  vis-a-vis  to  an  adversary 
nearly  as  large  as  itself  and  quite  as  courageous ;  and  it  w 
possible  also  that  its  pilot-fish,  —  a  brace  of  which  had  ad- 
vanced close  to  Snowball's  snout,  and  after  submitting  his 
dusky  carcass  to  a  brief  examination  returned  to  their  mas- 
ter, —  it  is  just  possible  that  these  emissaries  had  reported 
to  their  patron,  that  the  game  he  was  in  pursuit  of  must  be 
approached  with  caution. 

At  all  events  something  had  been  communicated  that  pro- 
duced a  sudden  change  in  the  tactics  of  the  zygaena.  In- 
stead of  rushing  recklessly  on  to  the  attack,  —  or  even  keep- 
ing up  the  swimming  pace  by  which  it  had  hijherto  been 
making  its  approach,  —  on  arriving  within  some  half-score 
fathoms  of  Snowball's  face,  it  gradually  slackened  speed, 
until  its  brown,  fan-like  fins,  gently  oscillating  along  its 
seemed  no  longer  to  propel  its  body  through  the  water 


114  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

Moreover,  on  drawing  nearer,  it  swerved  slightly  from  its 
course,  —  as  if  with  the  design  either  of  attacking  its  adver- 
sary in  the  rear,  or  passing  him  altogether  ! 

Strange  enough,  the  two  parasites  appeared  to  direct  this 
movement :  for  both  kept  swimming  alongside  the  zygaena, 
one  of  them  opposite  each  of  its  huge  eyeballs. 

The  negro  seemed  slightly  perplexed  by  this  unexpected 
manoeuvre.  He  had  anticipated  an  instantaneous  attack,  and 
had  made  every  preparation  to  receive  and  repel  it.  He  had 
even  taken  the  knife  from  his  teeth,  and  was  holding  it 
tightly  clutched  in  his  right  hand,  ready  to  deal  his  deadly 
blow. 

The  shyness  of  the  shark  produced  a  disappointment. 

Something  besides  :  for  it  now  occurred  to  Snowball  that 
the  cunning  zygcena  was  trying  to  pass  him,  with  the  design 
of  making  a  razzia  towards  the  helpless  party  in  his  rear. 

The  moment  this  suspicion  arose  to  him  he  turned  short 
in  the  water,  and  struck  out  in  a  direction  that  would  enable 
him  to  head  the  shark,  and,  if  possible,  intercept  it. 

Whether  the  creature  intended  to  pursue  his  original  plan 
of  attacking  the  sailor  and  his  charge,  or  whether  he  was 
manoeuvring  to  turn  the  Coromantee,  it  mattered  not.  In 
either  case  Snowball  was  pursuing  the  correct  strategy.  He 
knew  that  if  his  supple  antagonist  could  once  get  round  to 
his  rear,  his  chances  of  safety  for  himself  or  the  others  would 
be  sadly  diminished.  Should  the  zygaena  once  get  past  him 
and  continue  on  towards  the  sailor,  swift  swimmer  as  Sncw 
ball  was,  he  could  have  no  chance  of  overtaking  a  fish. 

At  this  crisis  a  thought  occurred  to  him  which  promised  to 
avert  the  calamity  he  most  dreaded,  —  that  is,  the  shark  get- 
ting past  him,  and  continuing  on  to  the  others.  The  thought 
found  expression  in  speech. 

"  Ho !  Massa  Brace ! "  he  cried,  once  more  taking  the 
steel  from  between  his  teeth.  "  Swim  roun'  to  de  right. 
Keep  a-gwine  in  de  circle.  For  de  Lord  sake,  keep  ahind 
o>e,  or  you  loss  fo1  satin  ! " 


A  RING  PERFORMANCE.  115 

The  sailor  scarcely  needed  the  counsel.  He  sa*r  the  dan- 
ger before  Snowball  had  spoken,  and  had  already  commeaced 
the  movement  which  the  Coromantee  was  requesting  him  to 
make. 

Once  more  the  tableau  changed.  The  dramatis  persona 
in  their  relative  positions  first  formed  an  isosceles  triangle, 
then  a  scalene,  afterwards  a  right  line.  Now  all  were  mov- 
ing in  a  circle,  or  rather  in  three  circles  concentric  to  one 
another ;  the  sailor,  with  his  charge,  revolving  round  the 
centre,  Snowball  in  mid  radius,  while  the  shark,  flanked  by 
his  satellites,  went  gliding  along  the  outer  circumference, 
his  lurid  eyes  glaring  continually  inward,  as  if  watching  for 
an  opportunity  to  break  the  line  so  carefully  guarded  by  the 
Coromantee ! 

For  full  five  minutes  was  this  "  ring  "  performance  kept 
up,  without  any  great  alteration  occurring  in  the  relative 
positions  of  the  parties.  But  it  was  a  game  in  which  the 
outside  player  had  all  the  advantage ;  for,  although  the 
zygaena  had  by  far  the  greater  distance  to  traverse,  what 
was  but  sport  to  it  was  fatigue  and  the  danger  of  drowning 
to  its  adversaries. 

Had  its  skull  been  of  a  different  formation,  and  filled  with 
a  better  set  of  brains,  it  would  have  endeavored  to  keep  up 
that  game,  without  in  the  least  degree  changing  the  mode  of 
playing  it.  In  due  time,  its  chief  antagonist,  Snowball,  must 
have  cried  quarter  or  gone  to  the  bottom  ;  and  far  sooner 
must  have  sunk  the  weighted  swimmer  in  his  wake. 

But  sharks,  like  other  creatures  both  aquatic  and  terres- 
trial, have  their  moments  of  impatience  and  anger  ;  and  the 
eygajna,  yielding  to  these  passions,  common  to  both  piscine 
and  human  nature,  at  length  determined  to  break  through 
the  rules  of  the  game,  and  bring  the  play  to  an  abrupt  termi- 
nation. 

In  obedience  to  this  impulse,  it  suddenly  swerved  from  it* 
circular  course,  and,  heading  towards  the  spot  where  Bee 


116  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

Brace,  with  Lilly  Laleo  clinging  to  his  shoulder,  was  j  erforna- 
ing  bis  shorter  revolutions,  it  made  a  reckless  and  determined 
rush  for  the  centre,  —  equally  regardless  of  the  admonition 
of  its  brace  of  monitors  and  the  cold  steel  of  the  Coroman- 
tee,  gleaming  clear  under  the  water  through  which  it  would 
have  to  make  its  way.  So  near  had  it  to  pass  to  the  negro's 
flat  nose  thai  ;ts  glutinous  skin  would  be  almost  in  contact 
with  his  prominent  lips,  and  with  his  outstretched  hand  he 
need  have  no  difficulty  in  striking  his  slippery  antagonist. 

Had  Snowball  been  anticipating  this  change  of  tactics,  he 
could  not  have  acted  more  adroitly,  or  with  greater  prompt- 
ness. As  the  zygcena  was  gliding  onward,  and  just  as  its 
rough  pectoral  passed  within  an  inch  of  his  nose,  he  suddenly 
returned  the  knife  between  his  teeth,  and,  simultaneously 
using  both  hands  and  limbs,  he  sprang  upward  in  the  w^tar, 
and,  with  a  vigorous  effort,  launched  himself  on  its  bas/k ! 

In  the  next  instant  he  was  seen,  —  or  might  have  been 
seen,  —  with  one  hand,  the  left,  firmly  grasping  the  bony 
protuberance  of  the  zygzena's  left  eye,  his  muscular  fingera 
deeply  imbedded  in  the  socket,  while  his  right,  clutching  the 
long  knife,  was  inflicting  a  series  of  stabs  against  the  side  of 
his  adversary,  now  flashing  high  in  the  air,  now  gleaming 
under  water,  going  up  and  down  with  all  the  measured  regu- 
larity of  a  trip-hammer. 

When  it  pleased  the  Coromantee  to  dismount  from  hid 
slippery  saddle,  the  zygasna  floated  by  his  side,  —  a  carcasi 
Btained  with  its  own  blood,  that  for  fathoms  around 
•oned  the  azure  waters  of  the  ocean  1 


THE  CHASE  OF  THE  CATAMARAN.       Ill 

CHAPTER    XXXIII. 

THE   CHASE   OP   THE    CATAMARAN. 

AS  we  have  said,  little  William,  standing  near  the  stern 
of  the  Catamaran,  had  watched  the  spectacle  with 
suspended  breath.  It  was  only  after  seeing  the  zygaena 
float  lifeless  on  the  water,  and  becoming  satisfied  that  Snow- 
ball had  come  out  of  the  struggle  safe  as  well  as  victorious, 
that  the  boy  gave  utterance  to  a  shout.  Then,  unable  longer 
to  restrain  himself,  he  raised  a  cry  of  joyful  exultation. 

It  was  neither  prolonged  nor  repeated.  It  had  scarce 
passed  his  lips,  ere  it  was  succeeded  by  another  of  very  dif- 
ferent import.  This  was  the  very  opposite  to  a  shout  of 
joy :  rather  was  it  a  cry  of  consternation.  That  little  drama 
of  the  ocean,  of  which  he  had  been  the  sole  spectator,  was 
not  yet  over.  There  was  another  act  to  come  of  equally 
thrilling  interest  with  that  just  ended,  —  an  act  in  which  he 
himself  would  be  called  upon  to  play  an  important  part 
along  with  the  others. 

It  had  already  commenced ;  and  the  wild  cry  which  es- 
caped from  the  lips  of  the  sailor-lad  announced  his  first  per- 
ception of  the  new  phase  into  which  the  drama  had  entered. 

Absorbed  in  the  contemplation  of  the  combat  between 
Snowball  and  the  shark,  he  had  hitherto  remained  unobserv- 
ant of  a  circumstance  of  the  most  alarming  character,  —  one 
that  threatened  not  only  the  destruction  of  the  Coromantee, 
but  Ben  Brace  as  well,  and  Lilly  Lalee,  and  in  time  little 
William  himself,  —  in  short,  of  the  whole  party. 

The  lives  of  all  were  at  that  moment  in  the  hands  of  the 
sailor-lad,  or  if  not  in  his  hands,  then  were  all  of  them 
doomed  to  certain  destruction. 

You  may  be  wondering  what  strange  circumstance  this 
was,  fraught  with  such  a  terrible  contingency.  There  was 


118  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS 

nothing  mysterious  in  or  about  it.  It  was  simply  that  the 
Catamaran,  carrying  its  large  spread  sail,  was  drifting  te 
leeward,  and  rapidly  increasing  the  distance  between  itself 
and  the  swimmers. 

Relieved  from  the  anxiety  with  which  he  had  regarded 
the  conflict,  little  William  at  once  became  aware  of  this  new 
danger,  —  hence  his  cry  of  consternation.  Ben  Brace  either 
perceived  it  at  the  same  instant,  or  else  the  shout  of  his 
protige  had  drawn  his  attention  to  it ;  for,  quick  succeeding 
the  latter,  the  voice  of  the  sailor  went  rolling  across  the 
water  in  words  of  direction  intended  for  the  ears  of  little 
William. 

"  Will'm !  Will'm ! "  shouted  he,  raising  his  lips  above  the 
surface  so  as  to  enunciate  more  distinctly.  "  For  marcy's 
sake,  lad,  lay  hold  on  the  steerin'  oar.  Try  to  tack  round, 
or  we  're  lost  one  an'  all  o'  us  !  " 

At  the  same  instant  Snowball  sputtered  out  some  very 
similar  orders ;  but  beirg  sadly  out  of  breath  from  his  ex- 
ertions in  the  long-continued  struggle  with  the  zygama,  what 
proceeded  from  his  mouth  less  resembled  words  than  the 
snorting  of  a  porpoise ;  and  was,  in  truth,  altogether  unin- 
telligible. 

Little  William  needed  no  instructions,  —  neither  to  hear 
nor  understand  them.  He  had  perceived  the  danger,  and, 
with  intuitive  promptness,  had  commenced  taking  measures 
to  avoid  it.  Partly  guided  by  his  own  thoughts  and  partly 
by  the  directions  of  Ben  Brace,  he  sprang  suddenly  to 
wards  the  steering  oar ;  and,  grasping  it  in  both  hands,  he 
worked  with  all  his  might  to  bring  the  Catamaran  about. 

After  a  time  he  succeeded  in  getting  her  head  as  close  to 
the  wind  as  such  a  craft  was  capable  of  sailing,  but  it  soon 
became  evident  to  him  that  the  manoeuvre  would  be  of  little 
or  no  avail.  Although  the  raft  did  not  make  leeway  quite 
as  much  as  before,  still  with  its  great  sail,  rudely  bent  as  it 
wa.«,  she  made  sufficient  to  preserve  the  distance  from  the 


THE  CHASE  OF  THE  CATAMARAN.       119 

;  and,  as  William  anxiously  observed,  still  slightly 
increasing  Even  Snowball,  who,  after  giving  the  coup  dt 
grace  to  the  zygaena,  had  struck  direct  towards  the  Co- 
tatharan,  —  even  he,  unencumbered  by  aught  save  his  wet 
shirt  and  trousers,  although  easily  passing  the  others  in  his 
course,  did  not  appear  to  gain  an  inch  upon  the  runaway 
raft. 

It  was  an  anxious  time  for  all  parties ;  and  the  anxiety 
reached  its  height  when  they  perceived,  as  one  and  all  soon 
did,  that  the  unmanageable  craft  was  keeping  its  distance,  if 
not  gaining  a  greater. 

That  state  of  things  could  not  continue  long.  Both  the 
.:'.vimmers  had  already  begun  to  show  signs  of  flagging. 
Snowball,  sea-duck  that  he  was,  might  have  held  out  a  good 
while;  but  the  sailor,  weighted  with  Lalee,  must  soon  "go 
mder."  Even  Snowball  could  not  swim  forever ;  and,  un 
\«s  some  incident  should  arise  to  change  the  character  of 
this  aquatic  chase,  and  arrest  the  Catamaran  in  her  leeward 
course,  sooner  or  later  must  the  Coromantee  become  also 
the  prey  of  the  all-swallowing  ocean. 

For  several  minutes  —  they  seemed  hours  to  all  —  did 
the  struggle  continue  between  man  and  Catamaran,  without 
any  very  great  advantage  in  favor  of  either.  It  is  true 
some  change  had  taken  place  in  the  relative  positions  of  the 
parties.  The  Coromantee,  at  starting  in  pursuit  of  the  raft, 
had  been  some  fathoms  in  the  wake  of  Ben  Brace  and  hia 
protege.  They  were  now  in  his  wake,  falling,  alas !  still 
farther  behind  him.  Unfortunately  for  all,  Snowball,  while 
increasing  his  distance  from  them,  was  not  lessening  it  from 
the  Catamaran  ;  and  therefore  the  advantage  he  was  gain- 
ing over  the  sailor  could  be  of  no  use,  so  long  as  the  raft 
proved  swifter  as  a  sailer  than  he  was  as  a  swimmer. 

Snowball's  original  idea  in  striking  out  in  pursuit  of  the 
Catamaran  was  to  get  aboard  ;  and,  by  making  a  better  use 
of  the  steering  oar  than  he  had  hitherto  done,  to  bring  th« 


120  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

craft  back  within  saving  distance  of  the  exhausted  swimmer 
Confident  in  his  natatory  powers,  he  had  at  first  believed 
this  feat  to  be  not  only  possible,  but  probable  and  easy.  It 
was  only  after  several  minutes  spent  in  the  pursuit,  and  the 
distance  between  him  and  the  Catamaran  seemed  to  grow 
greater  instead  of  less,  that  the  negro  really  began  to  feel 
anxiety  about  the  result. 

This  anxiety  kept  increasing  as  the  minutes  passed,  and 
the  broad  stretch  of  blue  water  between  him  and  the  Ca- 
tamaran appeared  to  grow  no  narrower,  strike  out  as  he 
would  with  all  the  strength  of  his  sinewy  arms,  and  kick 
as  he  might  with  all  the  muscular  energy  that  lay  in  his 
stout  legs. 

His  anxiety  became  anguish,  when,  after  one  of  his  most 
vigorous  efforts,  he  believed,  or  fancied,  that  all  had  been  in 
vain,  and  that  the  Catamaran  had  actually  gained  upon  him. 
Whether  fancy  or  not,  it  produced  conviction  in  his  mind 
that  to  overtake  the  craft  was  impossible  ;  and  all  at  once 
he  discontinued  the  attempt 

He  did  not,  however,  remain  stationary  in  the  water.  Far 
from  that.  On  abandoning  the  pursuit  of  the  Catamaran, 
he  turned  like  an  otter,  and  looked  back  in  the  direction  from 
which  he  had  come.  In  this  direction,  nearly  two  hundred 
fathoms  distant,  two  dark  objects,  so  close  together  as  to 
seem  one,  were  visible  over  the  "  curl "  of  the  water. 

They  were  just  visible  to  an  eye  elevated  several  inches 
above  the  surface  ;  and  Snowball  was  obliged  to  buoy  him- 
self into  an  erect  attitude,  —  like  a  seal  taking  a  survey  of 
the  circle  around  it,  or  a  dog  pitched  unexpectedly  into  :i 
deep  pond,  —  before  he  could  see  them. 

He  saw  them,  however ;  he  knew  what  they  were ;  and, 
without  a  moment's  pause  or  hesitation,  he  recommenced 
cleaving  the  water  in  a  line  leading  directly  towards  them. 

The  mind  of  the  Coromantee,  hitherto  distracted  by  con- 
flicting emotions,  had  now  but  one  thought.  It  was  less  • 


THE  SAIL   OUT   OF  SIGHT.  19} 

purpose  than  a  despairing  instinct  It  was  to  support  the 
child  who  had  been  intrusted  to  him  —  the  Lill)  Lalee  — 
above  water  as  long  as  he  should  have  strength ;  and  then 
to  go  down  along  with  her  into  that  vast,  fathomless  tomb, 
that  leaves  no  trace  and  carries  no  epitaph ! 


CHAPTER    XXXIV. 

THE   SAIL   OUT   OF   SIGHT. 

THE  sea-cook  and  the  sailor  were  now  swimming  towards 
each  other.  It  is  true  that  Ben  was  not  making  very 
rapid  way,  nor  did  Snowball  return  on  his  course  with  any 
great  alacrity.  Despair  had  rendered  the  latter  somewhat 
irresolute  ;  and  he  scarcely  knew  why  he  was  swimming 
back,  unless  it  was  to  be  drowned  in  company  with  the 
others ;  for  drowning  now  appeared  their  inevitable  fate. 

Slowly  as  both  swam,  they  soon  came  together,  —  the 
countenances  of  both,  as  they  met,  exhibiting  that  fixed, 
despairing  look  which  bespeaks  the  utter  extinction  of  hope. 

The  Catamaran  was  now  at  such  a  distance,  that  even 
could  she  have  been  suddenly  arrested  in  her  course,  ant 
brought  to  an  anchor,  it  was  doubtful  whether  either  Snow- 
ball or  the  sailor  could  have  reached  her  by  swimming. 
The  raft  itself  and  the  water-casks  lashed  around  it  were  no 
longer  to  be  seen.  Only  the  white  sail,  that  like  a  bit  of 
fleecy  cloud,  equally  fleeting,  was  fast  lessening  to  a  speck 
upon  the  distant  horizon.  No  wonder  that  hope  had  for- 
saken them ! 

The  sailor  wondered  that  the  sail  was  still  set.  During 
the  first  moments,  while  endeavoring  to  come  up  with  the 
craft,  he  had  shouted  to  "William  to  let  go  the  ha'liards 
e 


122  THE  OCEAN   WAIFS. 

He  had  kept  repeating  this  order,  until  his  roice,  alieadj 
hoarse  and  faltering,  grew  almost  inarticulate  from  shoe* 
exhaustion  of  breath,  and  the  raft,  moreover,  had  drifted  to 
euch  a  distance  that  it  was  not  likely  the  lad  could  hear  him. 
Under  this  impression  he  had  at  length  discontinued  his 
feeble  cries,  and  swam  on  in  slow  and  gloomy  silence,  wond- 
ering why  William  had  not  obeyed  his  injunctions,  feeling 
chagrin  at  his  not  doing  so,  and  with  good  reason,  since  the 
lowering  of  the  sail  might  have  still  given  them  some  chance 
of  overtaking  the  craft. 

It  was  just  as  the  sailor  had  given  over  calling  out,  and 
relapsed  into  sullen  silence,  that  Snowball  was  seen  return- 
ing towards  him.  It  was  an  additional  argument  for  despair 
this  abandonment  of  the  chase  on  the  part  of  the  Coroman- 
tee.  When  such  a  swimmer  had  given  it  up,  Ben  knew  it 
was  hopekss. 

In  a  moment  **  :  they  met  face  to  face.  The  glance 
exchanged  betw* \,n  them  was  mutually  understood  without 
a  word  spoken  by  either.  Each  tacitly  read  in  the  eyes  of 
the  other  the  dread  destiny  that  awaited  them,  —  near,  and 
soon  to  be  fulfilled,  —  drowning ! 

Snowball  was  the  first  to  break  the  terrible  silence. 

"  You  nigh  done  up,  Massa  Ben,  —  you  muss  be !  Gib 
me  de  lilly  gal.  You  Lally  !  you  lay  hold  on  ma  shoulder, 
and  let  Massa  Brace  ress  a  bit." 

"No,  —  no!"  protested  the  sailor,  in  a  despairing  tone. 
"  It  bean't  no  use.  I  can  carry  her  a  bit  longer.  'T  ain't 
much  longer  as  any  o'  us  '11  be  —  " 

"  Sh !  Massa  Brace,"  interrupted  the  negro,  speaking  in  a 
•oppressed  whisper,  and  looking  significantly  towards  the 
child.  "  Hope  dar  's  no  danger  yet,"  he  added,  in  a  voice 
intended  for  the  ear  of  Lalee.  "  We  oborhaul  de  Catama- 
ran by  'm  by.  De  wind  change,  and  bring  dat  crafF  down  on 
us.  Peak  in  de  French,  Massa  Ben,"  he  continued,  at  the 
•tune  time  adroitly  adopting  a  patois  of  that  language.  "  De 


THE  SAIL  OUT  OF  SIGHT.  128 

fMtivi  e  jeune  jitte  don't  understan'  de  French  lingo.  1  know 
it  am  all  ober  wi'  boaf  you  an'  me,  and  de  gal,  too  .but 
doan  let  her  know  it  to  de  lass  minute.  It  be  no  use  to  do 
dat,  —  only  make  her  feel  wuss.'* 

"  Eh  Men !  all  right, ! "  muttered  Ben,  indiscriminately 
mingling  his  French  and  English  phrases.  "  Pauvre  en- 
fant !  She  shan't  know  nothin'  from  me  o'  what  be  afore 
her.  Lord  a  marcy  on  all  o'  us !  I  don't  see  the  raft  any 
more !  Whar  be  it  ?  Can  you  see  it,  Snowball  ?  " 

"  Gorramity,  no ! "  replied  the  black,  raising  himself  up  in 
the  water  to  get  a  better  view.  "  Gone  out  o'  de  sight  alto- 
gedder !  We  nebba  see  dat  Catamaran  any  more,  —  no, 
nebba ! " 

The  additional  accent  of  despair  with  which  these  words 
were  uttered  was  scarce  perceptible.  Had  there  been  a 
hope,  it  would  have  been  shattered  by  the  disappearance 
of  the  raft,  —  whose  white  sail  was  now  no  longer  visible 
against  the  blue  background  of  the  horizon.  But  all  hope 
had  previously  been  abandoned ;  and  this  new  phase  of  the 
drama  pi'oduced  but  slight  change  in  the  minds  of  its  chief 
nctors.  Death  was  already  staring  them  in  the  face  with 
that  determination  which  promised  no  prospect  of  avoiding 
it,  and  none  was  cherished.  The  only  change  that  occurred 
was  in  the  action.  The  swimmers  no  longer  directed  them- 
selves in  a  particular  course.  There  was  none  for  them  to 
follow.  With  the  disappearance  of  the  sail  they  no  longer 
knew  in  what  direction  to  look  for  the  raft.  For  all  they 
now  knew  of  it,  it  might  have  gone  to  the  bottom,  leaving 
them  alone  upon  the  bosom  of  the  limitless  ocean. 

"  No  use  swimmin'  on'ards  ! "  said  Ben,  despairingly.  u  It 
11  only  waste  the  bit  of  strength  that  be  left  us." 

"  No  use,"  assented  the  negro.  "  Less  lay  to,  and  float  on 
de  water.  Dat  be  easier,  and  we  can  keep  up  de  longer 
Do,  Massa  Ben,  —  gib  me  de  gal.  You  mo'  tired  dan  L 
Come,  lilly  Lally,  you  grasp  hold  on  ma  shoulder !  Dat'i 
de  bess  way.  Conre,  now,  —  come,  dear  lilly  "•*li*" 


124  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

And  as  Snowball  spoke,  he  swam  close  alongside  the  girl 
and,  gently  detaching  her  hand  from  the  shoulder  of  th< 
sailor,  transferred  its  feeble  grasp  to  his  own. 

Ben  no  longer  offered  resistance  to  this  generous  action 
on  t!i3  part  of  his  old  comrade :  for,  in  truth,  he  stood  in 
dire  necessity  of  the  relief;  and,  the  transfer  having  been 
effected,  both  continued  to  float  upon  the  water,  sustaining 
themselves  with  no  more  effort  than  was  absolutely  neces- 
sary to  keep  their  heads  above  the  surface. 


CHAPTER   XXXV. 

WAITING   FOR   DEATH. 

FOR  several  minutes  the  wretched  castaways  of  the 
Catamaran  remained  in  their  perilous  position,  —  al- 
most motionless  in  the  midst  of  the  deep  blue  water,  —  pre- 
cariously suspended  upon  its  surface,  —  suspended  between 
life  and  death  ! 

Under  any  circumstances  the  situation  would  have  been 
trying  to  the  stoutest  nerves,  —  even  under  circumstances 
where  a  hope  of  deliverance  might  have  been  indulged  in. 
Without  this  it  was  awful. 

Neither  black  man  nor  white  one  any  longer  contemplated 
the  danger  of  death  :  both  believed  in  its  certainty. 

How  could  they  doubt  it?  Had  either  been  standing 
upon  the  scaffold,  with  the  condemned  cap  drawjj  over  his 
eyes  and  the  rope  adjusted  around  his  neck,  he  could  not 
have  felt  surer  of  the  nearness  of  his  end. 

Both  believed  it  to  be  simply  a  question  of  time  ;  an  hour 
or  two,  —  perhaps  not  so  much,  since  the  fatigues  and  strug- 
gles through  wlu'ch  they  had  just  passed  had  already  made 


WATTING  FOB  DEATH.  12» 

lad  inroads  upon  their  strength,  —  but  an  hour  w  two  at 
most,  and  all  would  be  over.  Both  must  succumb  to  the 
laws  of  Nature,  —  the  laws  of  gravitation,  —  or  rather  of 
specific  gravity,  —  and  sink  below  the  surface,  —  down,  down 
into  the  fathomless  and  unknown  abysm  of  the  ocean.  Along 
with  them,  sharing  their  sad  fate,  Lilly  Lal^,  —  that  pretty, 
uncomplaining  child,  the  innocent  victim  of  an  ill-starred 
destiny,  must  disappear  forever  from  a  world  of  which  she 
had  as  yet  seen  so  little,  and  that  little  of  the  least  favorable 
kind. 

Throughout  the  whole  affair  the  girl  had  shown  but  slight 
signs  of  the  terrible  affright  that,  under  the  circumstances, 
might  have  been  expected.  Born  in  a  land  and  brought  up 
among  a  people  where  human  life  was  lightly  and  precari- 
ously held,  she  had  been  often  accustomed  to  the  spectacle 
of  death,  —  which  to  some  extent  robs  it  of  its  terrors.  At 
all  events,  they  who  are  thus  used  appear  to  meet  it  with  a 
more  stocial  indifference. 

It  would  be  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  the  girl  appeared 
indifferent  Nothing  of  the  sort.  She  exhibited  apprehen- 
sion,—  fear  sufficient;  but  whether  her  mind  was  over- 
whelmed by  the  extreme  peril  of  the  situation,  or  that  she 
was  still  ignorant  of  its  being  extreme,  certain  it  is  that  her 
behavior,  from  beginning  to  end,  was  characterized  by  a 
calmness  that  seemed  supernatural,  or  at  all  events  super- 
human. Perhaps  she  was  sustained  by  the  confidence  .she 
had  in  the  brace  of  brave  protectors  swimming  alongside  of 
her,  —  both  of  whom,  even  in  that  extreme  hour,  carefully 
refrained  from  communicating  to  her  the  belief  which  they 
themselves  in  all  fulness  entertained,  —  that  their  lives  wer« 
fast  approaching  to  a  termination. 

The  minds  of  both  were  fully  imbued  with  this  conviction, 
though  not  in  the  same  degree  of  fulness.  If  possible,  th~. 
white  man  felt  more  certain  of  the  proximity  of  his  end  than 
did  the  negro.  It  is  not  oasy  it}  tell  why  it  was  so.  Tho 


126  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

reason  may,  perhaps,  be  found  in  the  fact,  that  the  latter  had 
been  so  often  on  the  edge  of  the  other  world,  had  so  ofter 
escaped  entering  it,  that,  despite  the  impossibility  of  escaping 
from  his  present  peril,  —  to  all  appearance  absolute,  —  there 
still  lingered  in  his  breast  some  remnant  of  hopefulness. 

Not  so  with  the  sailor.  From  the  bosom  of  Ben  Brace 
every  vestige  of  hope  had  vanished.  He  looked  upon  life 
as  no  longer  possible.  Once  or  twice  the  thought  had  actu- 
ally entered  his  mind  to  put  an  end  to  the  struggle,  and, 
along  with  it,  the  agony  of  that  terrible  hour,  by  suspending 
the  action  of  his  arms,  and  suffering  himself  to  sink  to  the 
bottom  of  the  sea '  He  was  only  restrained  from  the  suicidal 
act,  by  the  influence  of  that  instinct  of  our  nature,  which  ab- 
hors self-destruction,  and  admonishes,  or  rather  compels  us, 
to  abide  the  final  moment  when  death  comes  to  claim  us  as 
its  own. 

Thus,  by  different  circumstances,  and  under  different  in 
fluences,  were  the  three  castaways  of  the  Catamaran  sus- 
tained upon  the  surface  of  the  water,  —  Lilly  Lalee  by 
Snowball,  —  Snowball,  by  the  slightest  ray  of  hope  still 
lingering  in  a  corner  of  his  black  bosom,  —  the  sailor  by 
an  instinct  causing  him  to  refrain  from  the  committal  of  that 
act  which,  in  civilized  society,  under  all  circumstances,  u 
considered  as  a  crime. 


A  CflfcST  AT   SEA.  1*3 

CHAPTER    XXXVI. 

A   CHEST   AT   SEA. 

ALL  conversation  had  come  to  an  end.  E%en  ilie  few 
phrases  at  intervals  exchanged  between  Snowball  and 
the  bailor,  —  the  solemn  import  of  which  had  been  zeal- 
ously kept  from  the  child  by  their  being  spoken  in  French, 
—  were  no  longer  heard. 

The  swimmers,  now  wellnigh  exhausted,  had  for  a  long 
interval  preserved  this  profound  silence,  partly  for  the  rea- 
son of  their  being  exhausted,  and  partly  that  no  change  had 
occurred  in  the  circumstances  surrounding  them,  —  nothing 
that  required  a  renewal  of  the  conversation.  The  awe  of 
approaching  death,  —  now  so  near,  that  twenty  minutes  or 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  might  be  regarded  as  the  ultimate  mo- 
ment, —  held,  as  if  spell-bound,  the  speech  both  of  Snowball 
and  the  sailor. 

There  were  no  other  sounds  to  interrupt  the  silence  of 
that  solemn  moment,  —  at  least  none  worthy  of  being  men- 
tioned. The  slightest  ripple  of  the  water,  stirred  by  a  zephyr 
breeze,  as  it  played  against  the  bodies  of  the  languid  swim- 
mers, might  have  been  heard,  but  was  not  heeded.  No  more 
did  the  scream  of  the  sea-mew  arrest  the  attention  of  any  of 
them,  or  if  it  did,  it  was  only  to  add  to  the  awe  which  reigned 
above  and  around  them. 

In  this  moment  of  deep  silence  and  deepest  misery,  a 
voice  fell  upon  the  ears  of  the  two  swimmers  that  startled 
both  of  them,  as  if  it  had  been  a  summons  from  the  other 
world.  It  sounded  sweet  as  if  from  the  world  of  eternal 
joy.  There  was  no  mystery  in  the  voice ;  it  was  that  of  the 
Lilly  Lalee. 

The  child,  sustained  upon  the  shoulder  of  the  buoyant 
black,  was  in  such  a  position  that  her  eyes  were  elevated 


128  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

over  the  surface  of  the  water  several  inches  above  thos* 
either  of  him  who  supported  her  or  the  sailor  who  swam 
by  her  sMe.  In  this  situation  she  had  a  better  view  than 
either;  and,  as  a  consequence  of  this  advantage,  she  saw 
what  was  visible  to  neither,  —  a  dark  object  floating  upon 
tbv«  surface  of  the  sea  at  no  great  distance  from  the  spot 
where  the  exhausted  swimmers  were  feebly  struggling  to 
sustain  themselves. 

It  was  the  announcement  of  this  fact  that  had  fallen  with 
such  startling  effect  upon  the  ears  of  the  two  men,  simul- 
taneously rousing  both  from  that  torpor  of  despair  which  for 
some  time  had  held  possession  of  them. 

"  Who  you  see,  Lilly  Lally  ?  Who  you  see  ?  "  exclaimed 
Snowball,  who  was  the  first  to  interrogate  the  girl.  "  Look 
at  'im  'gain,  —  look,  good  lilly  gal ! "  continued  he,  at  the 
same  time  making  an  effort  to  elevate  the  shoulder  which 
gave  support  to  hi.s  protege. 

*  Wha  be  it  ?     'T  ain't  de  raff,  —  de  Catamaran  9     Eh  ?  " 

"  No,  no,"  replied  the  child.  "  It  is  n't  that.  It 's  a  small 
thing  of  a  square  shape.  It  looks  like  a  box." 

u  A  box  ?  how  come  dat  ?     A  box  !  what  de  debbel 

"  Shiver  my  timbers  if  't  ain't  my  old  sea-kit,"  interrupted 
the  sailor,  rearing  himself  aloft  in  the  water  like  a  spaniel 
in  search  of  wounded  waterfowl. 

"  Sure  as  my  name  's  Ben  Brace  it  be  that,  an'  nothing 
else!" 

"Your  sea-chess?"  interrogated  Snowball,  elevating  his 
woolly  cranium  above  the  water,  so  as  also  to  command  a 
view.  "  Golly !  I  b'lieve  it  am.  How  he  come  dar  ?  You 
leff  'im  on  de  raff?  " 

"  I  did,"  replied  the  sailor.  "  The  very  last  thing  I  had 
my  hands  upon,  afore  I  jumped  overboard.  Sure  I  bean't 
mistaken,  —  ne'er  a  bit  o'  it  It  be  the  old  k'lt  to  a  sar 
tainty." 

This  conversation  was  carried  on  in  a  quick,  hurried 


AN  IMPROVISED  LIFE-PRESEEVEB.  129 

and  long  before  it  ended,  —  in  fact  at  the  moment  of  its  be- 
ginning,—  the  swimmers  had  once  more  put  themselves  in 
motion,  and  were  striking  out  in  the  direction  of  the  object 
thus  unexpectedly  presented  to  their  view. 


CHAPTER    XXXVII. 

AN   IMPROVISED   LIFE-PRESERVER. 

WHETHER  it  should  turn  out  to  be  the  sea-chest  of 
Ben  Brace  or  no,  it  appeared  to  be  a  chest  of  some 
sort ;  and,  being  of  wood,  buoyantly  floating  on  the  water,  it 
promised  to  help  in  supporting  the  swimmers,  —  now  so 
utterly  exhausted  as  to  be  on  the  point  of  giving  up,  and 
going  to  the  bottom. 

It"  the  sailor  had  entertained  any  doubts  as  to  the  char- 
acter of  the  object  upon  which  they  were  advancing,  they 
were  soon  brought  to  an  end.  It  was  a  sea-chest,  —  his 
own,  —  to  him  easy  of  identification.  Well  knew  he  that 
close-fitting  canvas  cover,  which  he  had  himself  made  for  it, 
rendered  waterproof  by  a  coat  of  blue  paint,  —  well  knew 
he  those  hanging  handles  of  strong  sennit,  he  had  himself 
plaited  and  attached  to  it ;  and,  as  if  to  provide  against  any 
possible  dispute  about  the  ownership  of  the  chest,  were  the 
letters  "  B.  B.," — the  unmistakable  initials  of  Ben  Brace, — 
painted  conspicuously  upon  its  side,  just  under  the  keyhole, 
with  a  "  fouled  anchor  "  beneath,  with  stars  and  other  fan- 
tastic emblems  scattered  around,  —  all  testifying  to  the 
artistic  skill  of  the  owner  of  the  kit. 

The  first  thought  of  the  sailor,  on  recognizing  his  chest, 
was  that  some  misfortune  had  happened  to  the  raft,  and  tha/ 
it  had  gone  to  pieces. 

6*  I 


130  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

«  Poor  little  Will'm ! "  said  he.  "  If  that  be  BO,  then  K 
be  all  over  wi'  him." 

This  belief  was  but  of  short  duration,  and  was  followed 
by  a  reflection  of  a  more  pleasant  kind. 

"No!"  he  exclaimed,  contradicting  his  first  hypothesis. 
"It  can't  be  that.  What  could  'a  broke  up  the  raft? 
There  's  been  no  wind,  nor  rough  weather,  as  could  'a  done 
it.  Ha !  I  have  it,  Snowy.  It 's  Will'm 's  did  this.  He 's 
throwed  over  the  chest  in  the  behopes  it  might  help  float  us 
That's  how  it's  got  here.  Huzza  for  that  brave  boy! 
Let 's  cling  on  to  the  kit.  There  may  be  hope  for  us  yet." 

This  suggestion  was  superfluous :  for  the  idea  of  clinging 
to  the  kit  was  intuitive,  and  had  entered  the  minds  of  both 
swimmers  on  their  first  perceiving  it.  It  was  with  that  view 
they  had  simultaneously  set  themselves  in  motion,  and  com- 
menced swimming  towards  it. 

The  chest  certainly  offered  an  attractive  object  to  men 
circumstanced  as  they  were  at  that  moment,  —  something 
more  than  a  straw  to  be  clutched  at.  It  was  floating  bottom 
downwards,  and  lid  upwards,  — just  as  it  might  have  been 
placed  opposite  Ben's  own  bunk  in  the  forecastle  of  a  frigate, 
—  and  it  appeared  to  be  kept  steadily  balanced  in  this  posi- 
tion by  the  weight  of  some  iron  electing  along  the  bottom, 
which  acted  as  ballast.  Otherwise  the  chest  sat  so  high 
upon  the  water,  as  to  show  that  it  must  either  !>•;  quite 
empty  or  nearly  so;  for  the  sennit  handles  at  ea>i)/  tnd. 
which  were  several  inches  below  the  level  of  the  lid,  hung 
\u\te  clear  above  the  surface. 

These  handles  offered  the  most  salient  points  to  «eizi: 
ipon  ;  so  tempting,  too,  that  it  was  not  necessary  for  the 
tailor  to  suggest  that  Snowball  should  lay  hold  of  one,  while 
he  himself  sought  the  support  of  the  other. 

This  arrangement  appeared  to  offer  itself  tacitly   fo  the 
instinct  of  eaeh ;  and,  on  arriving  near  the  chest,  they 
to  opposite  ends,  —  and  each  laid  hold  of  a  handle,  as 
M  he  ciune  within  the  proper  distance  to  grasp  iU 


131 

This  kept  the  chest  property  balanced ;  and  although  die 
weight  they  added  to  it  caused  it  to  sink  several  inches  ir 
tibe  water,  to  their  great  joy  its  top  still  stood  well  above  the 
surface.  Even  when  the  light  form  of  Lilly  Lalee  lay  rest- 
ing along  the  lid,  there  were  still  several  inches  between 
the  water  line  and  its  upper  edge,  —  the  only  place  where 
sea  water  could  possibly  find  admission  into  the  kit  of  the 
sailor. 

- 


CHAPTER   XXXVIII. 

COKJECTURES   ABOUT   THE    CATAXAKAH. 

Eless  than  three  minutes  after  coming  in  contact  with 
he  kit,  the  three  castaways  formed  a  group,  curious  and 
peculiar.  On  the  right  of  the  chest  was  the  sailor,  his  body 
stretched  transversely  along  its  end,  with  his  left  arm  buried 
to  the  elbow  in  the  sennit  loop  forming  its  handle.  Half  of 
his  weight  being  thus  supported  by  the  buoyant  box,  it  was 
only  necessary  for  him  to  keep  his  right  arm  La  regular 
motion  to  sustain  himself  above  the  surface.  This,  even 
wearied  as  he  was,  he  was  enabled  to  accomplish  without 
difficulty :  for  the  new  position  was  one  rather  of  rest  than 
of  labor. 

At  the  opposite  end  of  the  chest,  in  a  pose  precisely  simi- 
lar, the  sea-cook  had  placed  himself,  —  the  only  difference 
being  in  the  uses  respectively  made  of  their  arms.  Snow- 
ball's right  arm  was  the  one  thrust  through  the  handle,  his 
left  being  left  free  for  swimming. 

As  already  hinted,  Lilly  Lalee  had  been  transferred  from 
Snowball's  shoulder  to  a  more  elevated  position,  —  upon  the 
top  of  the  chest  where,  lying  upon  her  breast,  and  grasping 
the  projecting  edge^of  the  lid,  she  was  enabled  to  keep  her 
place  without  any  exertion. 


132  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

It  ia  not  necessary  to  say  that  this  change  in  the  situation 
and  circumstances  of  the  paYty  had  also  produced  a  change 
in  their  prospects.  It  is  true  that  death  might  have  appeared 
as  inevitable  as  ever.  They  were  still  at  its  door,  —  though 
not  quite  so  near  entering  as  they  had  been  but  a  few  minutes 
before.  With  the  help  of  the  capacious  chest  —  forming,  ay 
it  did,  a  famous  life-preserver  —  they  might  now  sustain 
themselves  for  many  hours  above  the  surface,  —  in  fact,  as 
long  as  hunger  and  thirst  would  allow  them.  Their  holding 
out  would  be  simply  a  question  of  strength  ;  and  had  they 
been  only  assured  of  a  supply  of  food  and  drink,  they  might 
have  looked  forward  to  a  long  voyage  performed  in  this  sin- 
gular fashion :  that  is,  provided  the  sea  around  them  should 
keep  clear  of  storms  and  sharks. 

Alas !  the  approach  of  one  or  the  other  of  these  perils  was 
a  contingency  to  be  looked  for  at  any  moment,  and  to  be 
dreaded  accordingly. 

Just  at  that  moment  they  were  not  thinking  of  either,  nor 
even  of  the  probability  of  perishing  by  hunger  or  its  kindred 
appetite,  —  thirst.  The  singular  coincidence  that  the  chest 
should  come  floating  that  way,  just  when  they  were  on  the 
point  of  perishing,  had  produced  a  remarkable  effect  on  the 
minds  both  of  the  sailor  and  the  sea-cook,  begetting  no; 
positive  conviction,  but  a  pleasant  presentiment  that  there 
might  be  other  and  more  permanent  succor  in  store  for 
them ;  and  that,  after  all,  they  were  not  destined  to  die  by 
drowning,  —  at  least  not  just  then 

Hope,  —  sweet,  soothing  hope!  —  had  again  sprung  up  in 
the  bosom  of  both ;  and,  along  with  it  the  determination  to 
make  a  further  effort  for  the  saving  of  their  lives.  They 
could  now  exchange  both  speech  and  counsel  with  perfect 
freedom ;  and  they  proceeded  to  discuss  the  situation. 

The  presence  of  the  chest  required  explanation.  The 
theory,  which  at  first  sight  of  it  had  suggested  itself  to  its 
•wner  (that  the  raft  had  gone  to  pieces  and  that  t\e  kit  was 


CONJECTURES  ABOUT '  THE  CATAMARAN.  133 

*ne  of  the  scattered  fragments)  was  not  tenable,  nor  was  it 
entertained  for  a  moment.  There  had  been  no  convulsion, 
either  of  winds  or  waves,  to  destroy  the  Catamaran;  and 
this  curiously-fashioned  fabric,  in  all  its  fantastic  outlines, 
must  still  be  intact  and  afloat  somewhere  upon  the  surface 
of  the  sea. 

It  is  true  they  could  see  nothing  of  it  anywhere ;  neither 
could  Lilly  Lalee,  who,  from  her  more  elevated  position,  was 
instructed  to  survey  the  circle  of  the  horizon,  —  a  duty  which 
the  child  performed  with  the  greatest  care. 

If  the  craft  had  been  anywhere  within  the  distance  of  a 
league  or  two,  the  large  lateen  sail  should  have  been  suffi- 
ciently conspicuous  to  have  caught  the  eye  of  the  girl.  But 
she  saw  it  not.  She  saw  nothing,  —  so  ran  her  report,  —  but 
the  sea  and  sky. 

From  this  it  might  have  been  inferred  (even  supposing 
the  Catamaran  to  be  still  afloat)  that  it  must  have  drifted 
to  such  a  distance  as  to  have  destroyed  all  chance  of  their 
ever  overtaking  it  But  the  sage  seaman  did  not  give  way 
to  this  form  of  reasoning.  His  conjectures  were  of  a  more 
consolatory  character,  —  founded  upon  certain  data  which 
had  presented  themselves  to  his  mind.  On  reflection,  he 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  the  presence  of  the  sea-chest 
upon  the  bosom  of  the  blue  water  was  no  accidental  circum- 
stance, but  a  design,  —  the  design  of  little  William. 

"  I  be  sure  o't,  Snowy,"  said  he ;  "  the  lad  ha'  chucked 
tkw  kit  overboard,  knowin'  as  how  we  mout  overhaul  it,  when 
we  could  not  come  up  wi'  the  Catamaran.  The  chest  war 
amidships,  when  I  parted  from  it  It  could  n't  a'  got  into  the 
water  o'  itself  no-how-somever  ;  besides,  it  war  full  o'  heavy 
things,  and  now  I  'm  sartin  it  be  empty,  —  else  how  do  it 
float  so  ?  Sure  he  must  a'  wbammeled  it  upside  down,  an' 
spilled  out  the  things  afore  he  pitched  it  overboard.  It  wai 
thoughtful  o'  him  ;  but  he  be  jast  the  one  for  that  I  've  seed 
bnn  do  some'at  similar  afore-  Only  think  o'  the  dear  boy  I  " 


134  THE  OCEAN   WAIFS. 

And  Ben,  after  this  burst  of  enthusiasm,  for  a  moment 
indulged  his  admiration  in  silence. 

"  Dat  s  all  berry  likely,  —  berry  likely,"  was  the  rejoinder 
of  the  Coromantee. 

"  I  know  what  he  did  next,"  said  Ben,  continuing  the 
thread  of  his  conjectures. 

"  Wha'  you  tink,  Massa  Brace  ?  " 

"  He  tuk  in  sail.  I  don't  know  why  he  did  n't  do  it  sooner ; 
for  I  called  to  him  to  do  that,  an'  he  must  ha'  heerd  me, 
I  've  jest  got  a  idea  that  the  fault  was  n't  his  'n.  When  I 
hauled  up  that  bit  o'  canvas,  I  've  a  sort  o'  recollection  o' 
puttin'  a  ugly  knot  on  the  haulyards.  Maybe  he  warn't 
able,  wi'  his  little  bits  o'  digits,  to  get  the  snarl  clear,  as  fast 
as  mout  a'  been  wished ;  an'  that  '11  explain  the  whole  thing. 
Sartin  he  got  down  the  sail  at  last,  —  eyther  by  loosin'  the 
belay,  or  cuttin'  the  piece  o'  rope,  and  that 's  why  there  be 
no  canvas  in  sight.  For  all  that,  the  Catamaran  can't  be  so 
fur  off.  She  had  n't  had  time  to  a'  drifted  to  such  a  great 
distance,  —  'specially  if  the  sail  were  got  down  the  time  as 
we  missed  it." 

"  Dat  am  true.  I  miss  de  sail  all  ob  a  sudden,  —  jess  as 
if  it  had  come  down,  yard  an'  all,  straight  slap  bang." 

"  Well,  then,  Snowy,"  continued  the  sailor,  in  a  tone  of 
increased  cheerfulness,  "  if 't  be  as  we  conjecture,  the  craft 
ain't  far  ahead  o'  us  yet.  Maybe  only  a  knot  or  two ;  for 
one  can't  see  far  over  the  water  who  happens  to  be  neck- 
deep  under  it  as  we  be.  In  any  case  she  be  sure  to  be 
lying  to  leuwart  o'  us ;  and,  without  the  sail,  she  won't  drift 
faster  than  we  can  swim,  nor  yet  so  fast.  Let  us  do  the 
best  we  can  to  make  a  mile  or  two's  leeway ;  an'  then  we  '11 
know  whether  the  old  Cat's  still  crawling  about,  or  whether 
she  's  gin  us  the  slip  altogether.  That 's  the  best  thing  we 
can  do,  —  ain't  it  ?  " 

"  De  berry  bess,  Massa  Brace.  We  can't  do  r  uffin  better 
dan  swim  down  de  wind." 


DOWN  THE  WIND.  1-35 

Without  further  parley,  the  two  set  themselves  to  the  task 
thus  proposed ;  and  one  striking  with  his  right  hand,  the 
other  with  his  left,  —  both  buffeting  the  waves  with  equal 
vigor  and  resolution,  —  they  were  soon  sweeping  onward 
with  a  velocity  that  caused  the  sea  to  surge  along  the  sides 
of  the  chest,  until  the  froth  rose  to  the  fingers  of  Lilly 
Lalee  as  she  lay  grasping  its  lid ! 


CHAPTER    XXXIX. 

DOWN   THE   WIND. 

T1HEY  had  not  proceeded  very  far,  when  a  cry  from  the 
girl  caused  them  to  suspend  their  exertions. 

While  the  others  were  occupied  in  propelling  the  chest, 
Lalee,  kneeling  upon  the  lid,  had  been  keeping  a  lookout 
ahead.  Something  she  saw  had  elicited  that  cry,  which 
was  uttered  in  a  tone  that  betokened,  if  not  joy,  at  least 
some  sort  of  gratification. 

"  Wha  is  it,  Lilly  Lally  ? "  interrogated  the  black,  with 
an  air  of  eagerness  ;  "  you  see  someting.  Golly !  am  it  de 
Catmaran?" 

"  No,  —  it  is  not  that.  It 's  only  a  barrel  floating  on  the 
water." 

"  Only  a  ba'l,  —  what  sort  o'  a  ba'l  you  tink  5im  ?  * 

"  I  think  it 's  one  of  the  empty  water-casks  we  had  tied 
to  the  raft.  I  'm  sure  it  is :  for  I  see  ropes  upon  it." 

"It  is,"  echoed  Ben,  who,  having  poised  himself  aloft, 
had  also  caught  sight  of  the  cask.  "  Shiver  my  timbers  I 
it  do  look  like  as  if  the  Cat  had  como  to  pieces.  But  no  1 
T  ain't  that  has  set  the  cask  adrift.  I  ses  it  all  now.  Littte 
Will'm  be  at  the  bottom  o'  this  too.  H«  has  cut  away  th* 


136  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

lashin's  o'  the  barrel,  so  as  to  gie  us  one  more  chance,  in 
the  case  o'  our  not  comin'  across  the  chest.  How  thoughtful 
o'  the  lad  !  Just  like  'ira,  as  I  said  it  war ! " 

"We  bess  swim  for  de  cask  an'  take  'im  in  tow,"  sug- 
gested the  sea-cook ;  "  no  harm  hab  'im  'longside  too.  If 
de  wind  'pring  up,  de  ole  chess  be  no  use  much.  De  cask 
de  berry  ting  den." 

"  You  're  right,  Snowy !  we  musn't  leave  the  cask  behind 
us.  If  the  kit  have  served  us  a  good  turn,  the  other  'ud 
be  safer  in  a  rough  sea.  It  be  dead  ahead,  so  we  may  keep 
straight  on." 

In  five  minutes  after,  they  were  alongside  the  cask,  — 
easily  recognized  by  its  rope  lashings,  as  one  of  those  they 
had  left  attached  to  the  raft.  The  sailor  at  the  first  glance 
saw  that  some  of  the  chords  encircling  it  had  been  cut  with 
a  knife,  or  other  sharp  instrument,  —  not  severed  with  any 
degree  of  exactitude,  but  "  haggled,"  as  if  the  act  had  been 
hurriedly  performed. 

"  Little  Will'm  again !  He  's  cut  the  ropes  wi'  the  old 
axe,  an'  it  were  blunt  enough  to  make  a  job  for  him !  Huzza 
for  the  noble  lad  !  " 

"  Tay  ! "  cried  Snowball,  not  heeding  the  enthusiastic  out- 
burst of  the  sailor.  "  You  hold  on  to  de  chess,  Massa  Brace, 
while  I  climb  up  on  de  cask,  and  see  what  I  can  see.  May 
be  I  may  see  de  Catamaran  herseff  now." 

"  All  right,  nigger.  You  had  better  do  that.  Mount  the 
barrel,  an'  I  '11  keep  a  tight  hold  o'  the  kit." 

Snowball,  releasing  his  arm  from  the  sennit  loop,  swam 
up  to  the  floating  cask  ;  and,  after  some  dodging  about,  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  astride  of  it. 

It  required  a  good  deal  of  dexterous  manoeuvring  to  keep 
the  cask  from  rolling,  and  pitching  him  back  into  the  water. 
But  Snowball  was  just  the  man  to  *xcel  in  this  sort  of 
aquatic  gymnastics;  and  after  a  time  he  became  balanced 
in  his  seat  with  sufficient  steadiness  to  admit  of  his  hiking 
ft  fair  survey  of  the  ocean  around  him. 


DOWN  THE  WIND.  137 

JThe  sailor  had  watched  his  movements  with  an  3ager 
yet  hopeful  eye :  for  these  repeated  indications  of  both  the 
presence  and  providence  of  his  own  protege  had  almost 
convinced  him  that  the  latter  would  not  be  very  distant  from 
the  spot.  It  was  nothing  more  than  he  had  prepared  him« 
self  to  expect,  when  the  Coromantee,  almost  as  soon  as  he 
had  steadied  himself  astride  of  the  water-cask,  shouted,  in 
a  loud  voice, — 

"The  Oaf  moron  J  —  the  Catmaran!" 

"  "Where  ?  "  cried  the  sailor.     "  To  leuwart  ?  " 

u  Dead  in  dat  same  direcshun." 

"  How  fur,  cooke  ?  how  fur  ?  " 

"  Not  so  fur  as  you  might  hear  de  bos'n's  whissel ;  not 
more  dan  tree,  four  length  ob  a  man-o-war  cable." 

" Enough,  Snowy !    What  do  you  think  best  to  be  done?" 

"  De  bess  ting  we  can  do  now,"  replied  the  negro,  "  am 
Jbr  me  to  obertake  dat  ere  craff.  As  you  said,  de  sail  am 
down ;  an'  de  ole  Cat  no  go  fasser  dan  a  log  o'  'hogany 
wood  in  a  calm  o'  de  tropic.  If  dis  child  swim  affer,  he 
soon  come  up ;  and  den  wif  de  oar  an'  de  help  ob  lilly 
Willy,  he  meet  you  more  dan  half  way,  —  dat  fo'  sartin." 

"  You  think  you  can  overtake  her,  Snowball  ?  " 

"  I  be  sartin  ob  dat  ere.  You  tay  here  wif  Lilly  Lally. 
Keep  by  de  chess  and  de  cask  boaf,  —  for  de  latter  am  bet- 
ter dan  de  former.  No  fear,  I  soon  bring  de  Cat'maran 
'long  dis  way,  once  I  get  'board  o'  her." 

So  saying,  the  negro  gave  the  cask  a  "  cant "  to  one  side, 
slipped  off  into  the  water ;  and,  with  a  final  caution  to  his 
comrade  to  keep  close  to  the  spot  where  they  were  parting 
he  stretched  out  his  muscular  arms  to  their  full  extern,  and 
commenced  surging  through  the  water,  —  snorting  as  h« 
went  like  some  huge  cetacean  of  the  tribe  of  the  Mysticni 


188  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

CHAPTER    XL. 

LAUNCHING   THE   LIFE-PRESERVER. 

IT  is  scarce  necessary  to  say  that,  during  all  this  time.  Lit- 
tle William,  on  board  the  Catamaran,  was  half  wild  with 
anxious  thoughts.  He  had  obeyed  the  first  instructions 
shouted  to  him  by  Ben  Brace,  and  taken  to  the  steering  oar ; 
but,  after  struggling  for  some  time  to  get  the  craft  round,  and 
seeing  that  his  efforts  were  of  no  avail,  he  dropped  it  to  com- 
ply with  the  still  later  orders  given  by  the  sailor :  to  let  loose 
the  halliards  and  lower  the  sail.  Ben  had  wondered,  and 
with  a  slight  feeling  of  chagrin,  why  this  last  order  had  not 
been  executed,  —  at  least  more  promptly,  —  for  at  a  later 
period  he  knew  the  sail  had  been  lowered ;  but  Ben  was  of 
course  ignorant  of  the  cause  of  the  delay. 

His  conjecture,  however,  afterwards  expressed,  when  he 
half-remembered  having  put  "  a  ugly  knot  on  the  haulyards,'' 
which  he,  little  William,  "  maybe  war  n't  able  to  get  clear 
as  fast  as  mout  a  been  wished,"  was  perfectly  correct ;  as 
was  also  the  additional  hypothesis  that  the  sail  had  been  got 
down  at  last,  "  either  by  loosin'  the  belay  or  cuttin'  the  piece 
o'  rope." 

The  latter  was  in  reality  the  mode  by  which  the  sailor  lad 
had  succeeded  in  lowering  the  sail. 

As  Ben  had  conjectured,  the  belaying  loop  had  proved  too 
much  for  the  strength  of  William's  fingers ;  and,  after  sev- 
eral fruitless  efforts  to  untie  the  knot,  he  had  at  length  given 
it  up,  and,  seizing  the  axe,  had  severed  the  halliard  by  cut- 
ting it  through  and  through. 

Of  course  the  sail  came  down  upon  the  instant ;  but  it  waa 
then  too  late ;  and  when  William  again  looked  out  over  the 
ocean,  he  saw  only  the  ocean  itself,  with  neither  spot  nor 
speck  to  break  the  uniformity  of  its  boundless  bosom  of  blue 


LAUNCHING  THE  LIFE-PRESERVER.  139 

In  that  glance  he  perceived  that  he  was  alone,  —  Le  felt 
for  the  first  time  that  he  was  alone  upon  the  ocean  ! 

The  thought  was  sufficient  to  beget  despair,  —  to  pfxra.yzt: 
him  against  all  further  action  ;  and,  had  he  been  a  boy  of 
tte  ordinary  stamp,  such  might  have  been  the  result  But 
he  was  not  one  of  this  kind.  The  spirit  which  had  first  im- 
pelled him  to  seek  adventure  by  sea,  proved  a  mind  moulded 
for  enterprise  and  action.  It  was  not  the  sort  of  spirit  to 
yield  easily  to  despair  ;  nor  did  it  then. 

Instead  of  resigning  himself  up  to  fate  or  chance,  he  con- 
tinued to  exert  the  powers  both  of  his  mind  and  body,  in 
the  hope  that  something  might  still  be  done  to  retrieve  the 
misfortune  which  had  befallen  the  crew  of  the  Catamaran. 
He  again  returned  to  the  steering  oar ;  and,  hastily  detach- 
ing it  from  the  hook  upon  which  it  had  been  mounted  as  a 
rudder,  he  commenced  using  it  as  a  paddle,  and  endeavored 
to  propel  the  raft  against  the  wind. 

It  is  scarce  necessary  to  say  that  he  employed  all  his 
strength  in  the  effort ;  but,  notwithstanding  this,  he  soon  be- 
came convinced  that  he  was  employing  it  in  vain.  The 
huge  Catamaran  lay  just  as  Snowball  had  characteristically 
described  her,  — "  like  a  log  o'  'hogany  wood  in  a  calm  oh 
de  tropic." 

Even  worse  than  this ;  for,  paddle  as  he  would,  the  sailor 
lad  soon  perceived  that  the  raft,  instead  of  making  way 
against  the  wind,  or  even  holding  its  ground,  still  continued 
to  drift  rapidly  to  leeward. 

At  this  crisis  another  idea  occurred  to  him.  It  might 
have  occurred  sooner,  had  his  mind  not  been  monopolized 
with  the  hope  of  being  able  to  row  the  raft  to  windward. 
Failing  in  this,  however,  his  next  idea  was  to  throw  some- 
thing overboard,  —  something  that  might  afford  a  support  to 
the  swimmers  struggling  in  the  water. 

The  first  object  that  came  under  his  eyes  promising  such 
support  was  the  sea-kit  of  the  sailor.  As  already  stated,  it 


1*0  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

was  amidships,  —  where  its  owner  had  been  exploring  it, 
The  lid  was  open,  and  little  William  perceived  that  it  waa 
wellnigh  eicpty ;  since  its  contents  could  be  seen  scattered 
on  all  sides,  just  as  the  sailor  had  rummaged  them  out,  form« 
ing  ^  paraphernalia  of  sufficient  variety  and  extent  to  have 
furnis-fejd  the  forecastle  of  a  frigate. 

The  sight  of  the  chest,  with  its  painted  canvas  covering, 
which  Little  William  knew  to  be  water-tight,  was  suggestive. 
With  the  lid  locked  down,  it  might  act  as  a  buoy,  and  serve 
for  a  life-preserver.  At  all  events,  no  better  appeared  to 
offer  itself.;  and,  without  further  hesitation,  the  lad  slammed 
down  the  lid,  which  fortunately  had  the  trick  of  locking 
itself  with  a  spring,  and,  seizing  the  chest  by  one  of  the  sen- 
nit handles,  he  dragged  it  to  the  edge  of  the  raft,  gave  it  a 
final  push,  and  launched  it  overboard  into  the  blue  water 
of  the  ocean. 

Little  William  was  pleased  to  see  that  the  kit,  even  while 
in  the  water,  maintained  its  proper  position,  —  that  is,  it 
swam  bottom  downwards.  It  floated  buoyantly,  moreover, 
as  if  it  had  been  made  of  cork.  He  was  prepared  for  this  ; 
for  he  remembered  having  listened  to  a  conversation  in  the 
forecastle  of  the  Pandora,  relating  to  this  very  chest,  in 
which  Ben  Brace  had  taken  the  principal  part,  and  in  which 
the  sea-going  qualities  of  his  kit  had  been  freely  and  proudly 
commented  upon.  William  remembered  how  the  ci-devant 
man-o'-war's-man  had  boasted  of  his  craft,  as  he  called  the 
kit,  proclaiming  it  a  "  reg'lar  life-buoy  in  case  o'  bein*  cast 
away  at  sea,"  and  declaring  that,  "  if  't  war  emp'y,  —  as  he 
hoped  it  never  should  be,  —  it  would  float  the  whole  crew  o' 
a  pinnace  or  long-boat." 

It  was  partly  through  this  reminiscence  that  the  idea  of 
launching  the  chest  had  occurred  to  little  William ;  and,  as 
he  saw  it  receding  from  the  stern  of  the  Catamaran,  he  had 
some  happiness  in  the  hope,  that  the  confidence  of  his  com 
Damon  and  protector  might  not  be  misplaced ;  but  that  th» 


i  LOOK-OUT  FROM  ALOFT.          141 

fu:inted  kit  might  prove  the  preserver,  not  only  of  hit  life, 
but  of  the  life  of  one  who  to  little  William  was  now  eve« 
learer  than  Ben  Brace. 
That  one  was  Lilly  Lalee. 


CHAPTER    XLI. 

N 

A   LOOK-OUT   FROM   ALOFT. 

AFTER  launching  the  kit,  little  William  did  not  think 
of  surrendering  himself  to  inaction.  He  bethought 
him  that  something  more  should  be  done,  —  that  some  other 
waifs  should  be  turned  adrift  from  the  Catamaran,  which, 
by  getting  into  the  way  of  the  swimmers,  might  offer  them 
an  additional  chance  of  support. 

What  next  ?  A  plank  ?  No  ;  a  cask,  —  one  of  the  empty 
water-casks  ?  That  would  be  the  thing,  —  the  thing  itself. 

No  sooner  thought  of  than  one  was  detached.  The  lash- 
ings were  cut  with  the  axe,  in  default  of  his  finding  a  knife ; 
and  the  cask,  like  the  kit,  soon  fell  into  the  wake.  Not  very 
rapidly  it  was  true ;  for  the  Catamaran  now,  deprived  of  her 
sail,  did  not  drift  so  fast  to  leeward  as  formerly.  Still  she 
went  faster  than  either  the  kit  or  the  cask,  however;  on 
account  of  the  breeze  acting  upon  her  stout  mast  and  some 
other  objects  that  stood  high  upon  her  deck ;  and  William 
very  reasonably  supposed  that  to  swimmers  so  much  ex- 
hausted, —  as  by  that  time  must  be  both  Ben  and  Snowball, 
—  even  the  difference  of  a  cable's  length  might  be  of  vita] 
importance. 

It  occurred  to  him  also,  that  the  greater  the  number  of 
waifs  sent  in  their  way,  the  better  would  be  their  chance  of 
seeing  and  getting  hoj-i  of  one  of  them.  Instead  of  (?#.sisting 


142  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

therefore,  as  soon  as  he  had  detached  the  first  cask,  he  com 
menced  cutting  loose  a  second,  and  committing  it  to  the  sea 
in  like  manner. 

Having  freed  a  second,  he  continued  on  to  a  third,  and 
than  a  fourth,  and  was  actually  about  to  sever  the  lashings 
of  a  fifth  one,  with  the  intention  to  leave  only  the  sixth  one 
—  that  which  contained  the  stock  of  precious  water  —  at- 
tached to  the  Catamaran.  He  knew  that  the  raft  would  still 
float,  without  any  of  the  casks  to  buoy  it  up ;  and  it  was  not 
any  fear  on  that  score  that  caused  him  to  desist,  when  about 
to  give  the  cut  to  the  cords  that  confined  cask  No.  5.  It 
was  an  observation  which  he  had  made  of  an  entirely  differ- 
ent nature ;  and  this  was,  that  the  third  cask  when  set  loose, 
and  more  especially  the  fourth,  instead  of  falling  into  the  wake 
of  the  Catamaran,  kept  close  by  her  side,  as  if  loath  to  part 
company  with  a  craft  to  which  they  had  been  so  intimately 
attached. 

William  wondered  at  this,  but  only  for  a  short  moment. 
He  was  not  slow  in  comprehending  the  cause  of  the  unex- 
pected phenomenon.  The  raft,  no  longer  buoyed  up,  had 
sunk  almost  to  the  level  of  the  surface  ;  and  the  breeze  now 
failed  to  impel  it  any  faster  than  the  casks  themselves :  so 
that  both  casks  and  Catamaran  were  making  leeway  at  a 
like  rate  of  speed,  or  rather  with  equal  slowness. 

Though  the  sailor  lad  was  dissatisfied  on  first  perceiving 
this,  after  a  moment's  reflection,  he  saw  that  it  was  a  favor- 
able circumstance.  Of  course,  it  was  not  that  the  casks  were 
making  more  way  to  leeward,  but  that  the  Catamaran  was 
making  less  ;  and,  therefore,  if  there  was  a  chance  of  the 
swimmers  coming  up  with  the  former,  there  was  an  equal 
probability  of  their  overtaking  the  latter,  —  which  would  ba 
better  in  every  way.  Indeed,  the  raft  was  now  going  at  such 
a  rate,  that  the  slowest  swimmer  might  easily  overtake  her, 
provided  the  distance  between  them  was  not  too  great. 

It  was  this  last  thought  that  now  occupied  tin  mind  of  lit 


A  LOOK-OUT  FROM  ALOFT.          143 

tie  William,  and  rendered  him  anxious.  Had  the  swimmers 
fallen  too  far  into  the  wake  ?  Or  would  tley  still  be  able  to 
swim  on  to  the  raft  ? 

Where  were  they  at  that  moment  ?  He  looked  aft,  to- 
wards the  point  from  which  he  supposed  himself  to  have 
been  drifting.  He  was  not  sure  of  the  direction  ;  for  the 
rude  construction  on  which  he  stood  had  kept  constantly 
whirling  in  the  water,  —  now  the  stem,  now  the  quarters, 
anon  the  bows,  or  beam-ends  turned  towards  the  breeze.  He 
looked,  but  saw  nothing.  Only  the  sea-kit  that  by  this  time 
bad  got  several  hundred  fathoms  to  windward,  cask  No.  1  a 
little  nearer,  and  No.  2  still  nearer.  These,  however,  strung 
out  in  a  line,  enabled  him  to  conjecture  the  direction  in 
vhich  the  swimmers,  if  still  above  water,  should  be  found. 

Indeed,  it  was  something  more  definite  than  a  conjecture. 
Rather  was  it  a  certainty.  He  knew  that  the  raft  could  not 
have  made  way  otherwise  than  down  the  wind;  and  that 
those  who  belonged  to  it  could  not  be  elsewhere  than  to 
windward. 

Guided,  therefore,  by  the  breeze,  he  gazed  in  this  direc- 
tion, —  sweeping  with  his  eye  an  arc  of  the  horizon  suffi- 
ciently large  to  allow  for  any  deviation  which  the  swimmers 
might  have  made  from  the  true  track. 

He  gazed  in  vain.  The  kit,  the  casks,  a  gull  or  two, 
soaring  on  snowy  wings,  were  all  the  objects  that  broke  the 
monotony  of  the  blue  water  to  windward. 

He  glided  across  the  low-lying  planks  of  the  raft,  and  up 
to  the  empty  cask  still  attached,  which  offered  the  highest 
point  for  observation.  He  balanced  himself  on  its  top,  and 
once  more  scanned  the  sea  to  windward. 

Nothing  in  sight,  save  kit,  casks,  and  gulls  lazily  ply'ug 
their  long  ecimetar-shaped  wings  with  easy  unconcern,  as  if 
the  limitless  ocean  was,  —  what  in  reality  it  was,  —  th<a* 
habitat  and  home. 

Suffering  the  torture  of  disappointment,  —  each  moment 


144  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS 

increasing  in  agony,  —  little  William  leaped  down  from 
the  cask ;  and,  rushing  amidships,  commenced  mounting  the 
mast. 

In  a  few  seconds  he  had  swarmed  to  its  top :  and,  there 
clinging,  once  more  directed  his  glance  over  the  water 

He  gazed  long  without  discovering  any  trace  of  his  miss- 
ing  companions,  —  so  long  that  his  sinews  were  tried  to 
the  utmost;  and  the  muscles  both  of  his  arms  and  limba 
becoming  relaxed,  he  was  compelled  to  let  go,  and  slide 
down  despairingly  upon  the  planks  forming  the  deck  of  the 
Catamaran. 

He  stayed  below  only  long  enough  to  recover  strength ; 
and  then  a  second  time  went  swarming  up  the  stick.  If  kit 
and  casks  should  serve  no  better  purpose,  they  at  least 
guided  him  as  to  the  direction ;  and  looking  over  both,  he 
scanned  the  sea  beyond. 

The  gulls  guided  him  still  better;  for  both  —  there  was 
a  brace  of  them  —  had  now  descended  near  to  the  surface 
of  the  sea ;  and,  wheeling  in  short  flights,  seemed  to  occupy 
themselves  with  some  object  in  the  water  below.  Though 
they  were  at  a  great  distance  off",  he  could  hear  an  occasional 
scream  proceeding  from  their  throats :  as  if  the  object  at- 
tracting them  excited  either  their  curiosity  or  some  passion 
of  a  more  turbulent  character. 

Their  evolutions,  —  constantly  returning  towards  a  centre, 
—  guided  the  eye  of  the  observer  until  it  rested  on  an 
object  just  visible  above  the  sheen  of  the  water.  The  color 
•of  this  object  rendered  it  the  more  easy  of  being  distin- 
guished amidst  the  blue  water  that  surrounded  it ;  for  it  was 
blacker  than  anything  which  the  sea  produces,  —  unless  it 
were  the  bone  of  the  giant  Mysticetus.  Its  shape,  too  — 
almost  a  perfect  sphere  —  had  something  to  do  in  its  identi- 
fication :  for  William  was  able  to  identify  it,  and  by  a  process 
of  negative  reasoning.  It  was  not  the  black  albatross,  the 
frigate-bird,  nor  the  booby.  Though  of  like  color,  there 


ONCE  MORE  ABROAD.  145 

was  no  bird  of  such  form  as  that.  There  was  neither  beast 
&or  fish  belonging  to  the  sea  that  could  show  such  a  shape 
above  its  surface.  That  sable  globe,  rounded  like  a  sea- 
hedgehog,  or  a  Turk's-head  clew,  and  black  as  a  tarred 
tackle-block,  could  be  nothing  else  than  the  woolly  pate  ol 
Snowball,  the  sea-cook ! 

A  little  beyond  were  two  other  objects  of  dark  color  and 
rounded  shape;  but  neither  so  dark  nor  so  round  as  that 
already  identified.  They  must  be  the  heads  of  the  English 
sailor  and  Lilly  Lalee.  They  appeared  to  be  equally  objects 
of  attraction  to  the  gulls,  that  alternately  flew  from  one  to 
the  other,  or  kept  hovering  above  them,  —  and  continuously 
uttering  their  shrill,  wild  screams,  —  now  more  distinctly 
heard  by  little  William,  clinging  high  up  on  the  mast  of  the 
Catamaran. 


CHAPTER    XLII. 

ONCE    MORE   ABOARD. 

THE  sailor  lad  did  not  remain  longer  on  the  top  of  the 
mast  than  just  to  satisfy  himself  that  what  he  saw  were 
his  companions,  still  afloat  and  alive.  They  were  not  at  such 
a  distance  neither  as  to  render  it  altogether  impossible  for 
them  to  recover  their  lost  way ;  and,  stimulated  by  this  hope, 
little  William  determined  upon  continuing  his  efforts  to  assist 
them. 

Gliding  back  upon  the  planks  of  the  raft,  he  laid  hold  of 
the  detached  oar ;  and  once  more  plying  it  as  a  paddle,  he 
endeavored  to  propel  the  Catamaran  up  the  wind. 

It  is  true  he  made  but  slight  progress  in  this  direction  j 
but  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  the  craft  held  her 
ground,  and  something  more ;  as  he  could  tell  from  the  ft»ci 


146  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

•f  the  casksj  last  set  loose  by  him,  falling  a  little  to  leeward 
This  showed  that  he  must  himself  be  making  way  to  tha 
windward. 

The  sea-chest  and  the  cask  first  loosed  from  its  lashings, 
had  been  launched  long  before  any  of  the  others,  —  for  it  was 
only  after  an  interval  of  reflection  that  he  had  set  free  the 
rest,  —  and  the  former  were  now  far  to  windward.  When 
looking  from  the  masthead  he  had  noted  that  the  position  of 
the  swimmers  was  not  so  far  beyond  the  kit;  and  it  was 
scarce  possible  at  that  time,  that  they  could  have  failed  to 
discover  it 

Without  staying  to  consider  whether  they  had  done  so  or 
not,  William  had  come  down  from  his  perch ;  and  now  that 
he  had  reapplied  himself  to  the  oar,  and  saw  that  he  was 
gaining  ground  in  the  right  direction,  he  did  not  like  to  desist. 
Every  fathom  he  made  to  windward  was  a  fathom  nearer  to 
the  saving  of  the  lives  of  his  companions,  —  a  stroke  less  for 
the  swimmers  to  make,  —  to  whom,  wearied  as  they  must 
now  be,  the  saving  of  even  a  single  stroke  might  be  an 
object. 

With  this  thought  urging  him  to  perseverance,  the  sailor 
lad  stuck  to  his  oar,  wielding  it  with  all  the  strength  in  his 
arms,  and  only  thinking  of  the  one  purpose,  —  to  make  way 
against  the  wind.  Fortunately  the  breeze,  already  gentle, 
seemed  each  moment  to  grow  gentler,  —  as  if  unwilling  to 
oppose  his  efforts  in  the  cause  of  humanity  ;  and  little  William 
perceived,  to  his  great  gratification,  that  the  casks  already 
passed  by  the  Catamaran  were  falling  far  into  her  wake 
This  proved  that  he  must  be  gaining  upon  the  others. 

All  at  once  a  glad  sight  came  suddenly  under  his  eyes. 
Earnestly  occupied  with  the  oar,  he  had  permitted  more  than 
a  minute  to  elapse  without  casting  a  glance  ahead.  When 
at  length  he  renewed  his  lookout  to  windward,  he  was  sur- 
prised to  see,  not  only  the  cask  and  the  sea-chest  still  nearer 
but  on  the  top  of  tho  latter,  a  something  that  was  not  there 


ONCE  MORE  ABROAD.  U7 

belure.  Something  that  lay  along  the  lid,  with  arms  stretched 
downwards,  and  hands  clutching  its  projecting  edges.  He 
also  perceived  two  dark  rounded  objects  in  the  water,  —  one 
near  each  end  of  the  chest,  —  one  rounder  and  blacker  than 
the  other,  but  both  easily  distinguishable  as  the  heads  of 
humau  beings. 

The  singular  tableau  was  at  once  understood.  Lilly  Lalee 
was  on  tha  top  of  the  sea-kit;  Snowball  and  Ben  Brace  were 
flanking  it,  one  at  each  end.  The  chest  was  supporting  all 
three.  Hurrah !  they  were  saved ! 

Little  William,  at  that  moment,  felt  certain  they  would  be 
saved ;  though  that  joyful  certainty  had  not  yet  been  com- 
municated to  them.  Standing  erect  upon  an  elevated  part 
of  the  raft,  the  boy  had  the  advantage  of  them,  and  could 
note  every  movement  they  were  making,  without  being  seen 
by  them. 

He  did  not  spend  much  time  in  merely  looking  at  them. 
He  knew  that  that  would  be  of  no  avail ;  and  after  giving 
utterance  to  one  or  two  joyous  ejaculations,  he  returned  to 
the  oar,  if  possible  plying  it  with  greater  energy  than  ever, 
from  the  renewed  encouragement  which  he  now  derived  from 
the  confidence  of  success. 

When  he  turned  again  and  stood  upright,  looking  to  wind- 
ward, the  tableau  had  changed.  Lilly  Lalee  was  still  lying 
along  the  lid  of  the  chest,  but  only  one  head  was  seen  in  the 
water !  It  was  that  of  the  sailor,  as  the  white  face  and  the 
long  flowing  hair  told  him. 

Where  was  the  cranium  of  the  sea-cook  ?  Where  was  the 
skull  of  Snowball  ?  Gone  with  his  body  to  the  bottom  ? 

These  interrogatories  flashed  across  the  brain  of  the  lad, 
causing  him  a  feeling  of  alarm.  It  was  of  short  continuance, 
however.  In  the  next  moment  they  were  answered,  and  to 
his  satisfaction.  The  Coromantee  was  seen  astride  of  the 
cask,  more  conspicuous  than  ever:  only,  being  now  in  a 
alightly  different  direction,  he  had  not  been  seen  a.J  the  first 
glance. 


1-18  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

Without  shouting,  or  making  any  other' idle  demonstration, 
the  intelligent  youth  once  more  applied  himself  to  the  oar ; 
and  vigorously  propelled  the  raft  to  windward. 

He  did  not  again  desi.st,  until  a  voice  falling  upon  his  eur> 
and,  pronouncing  his  name,  caused  him  to  look  once  more  in 
the  direction  of  the  swimmers. 

Then,  instead  of  seeing  the  Coromantee  astride  of  the  cask, 
he  perceived  the  round  black  physiognomy  of  that  individual 
above  the  surface  of  the  water,  and  scarce  a  cable's  length 
from  the  Catamaran! 

A  double  line  of  frothy  ripple  proceeding  from  each  of  his 
large  spread  ears,  and  running  rapidly  into  his  wake,  indi- 
cated the  direction  in  which  he  was  swimming,  —  towards 
the  raft,  —  while  his  eyeballs  showing  fearfully,  and  white  as 
the  froth  itself,  —  the  spluttering  and  blowing  that  proceeded 
from  his  thick  lips,  and  the  agitation  of  the  sea  around  him, 
—  all  told  that  he  was  doing  his  very  best  to  come  up  with 
the  Oatamaran. 

"  Golly ! "  he  gasped  out,  on  perceiving  himself  within 
safe  distance  of  being  heard.  "  Row  dis  way,  lilly  Willy ! 
Row  like  de  debbil,  good  lad !  I  s'e  most  done  up,  —  dat  I 
be.  In  de  space  ob  anoder  cable  length  dis  chile  he  muss  a 
gub  up ! " 

And  ending  his  speech  with  a  loud  "  Whugh,"  partly  to 
clear  the  water  from  his  throat,  and  partly  to  express  the 
satisfaction  he  felt  at  the  near  prospect  of  deliverance,  he 
continued  to  strike  on  towards  the  raft. 

In  a  few  seconds  more  the  long-protracted  struggle  was 
brought  to  a  termination.  Snowball  succeeded  in  reaching 
the  raft,  and,  assisted  by  the  sailor  lad,  clambered  aboard. 

Only  staying  to  catch  a  little  breath,  the  negro  laid  hold 
of  the  second  oar ;  and  the  Catamaran,  under  the  double 
stroke,  was  soon  brought  en  rapport  with  the  sea-chest; 
when  the  remainder  of  the  crew  were  restored  to  her  decks, 
and  delivered  from  a  death  that  but  a  short  time  before  had 
raemed  so  certain  as  to  be  inevitable. 


REFITTING  THE  RAFT.  148 

CHAPTER    XLIII. 

BEFITTING   THE  BAFT. 

ON  once  more  setting  foot  on  the  deck  of  the  Catamaran, 
the  strong  sailor  was  so  thoroughly  exhausted  that  he 
was  unable  to  stand  erect,  and  after  scrambling  aboard,  and 
staggering  a  pace  or  two,  he  lay  down  along  the  planks. 
Lilly  Lalee  was  taken  care  of  by  little  William ;  who,  half- 
leading,  half-lifting  her  in  his  arms,  tenderly  placed  her 
upon  some  pieces  of  canvas  near  the  foot  of  the  mast. 

For  this  service,  so  fondly  yet  delicately  performed,  the 
boy  felt  himself  amply  rewarded  by  the  glance  of  gratitude 
that  shone  in  the  eyes  of  the  child,  —  even  without  the 
thanks  faintly  murmured  by  her  on  perceiving  she  was 
safe. 

Snowball,  equally  exhausted,  dropped  into  a  recumbent 
position.  All  three  remained  silent  for  a  considerable  length 
of  time,  and  without  stirring  either  hand  or  foot,  —  as  though 
to  speak  or  move  in  their  state  of  extreme  weariness  was 
impossible. 

Little  William,  however,  did  not  resign  himself  to  inaction. 
As  soon  as  he  had  disposed  of  Lalee,  he  made  direct  to  that 
corner  of  the  Catamaran  where  a  small  barrel  or  keg,  half 
submerged  under  the  water,  was  attached  to  one  of  the  tim- 
bers of  the  craft.  It  was  the  keg  containing  the  precious 
«  Canary." 

Carefully  extracting  the  bung,  —  which,  in  the  lashing  of 
the  keg,  had  been  purposely  kept  upwards,  —  he  inserted  a 
dipper,  —  that  is  to  say,  a  small  tin  vessel,  or  drinking 
u  taut,"  —  which  had  turned  up  among  the  stores  of  the 
sea-kit,  and  which,  having  been  already  used  for  the  same 
purpose,  was  provided  with  a  piece  of  cord  attached  around 
its  rim,  like  the  vessel  in  use  ptnong  the  gaugers  or  wine- 


150  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

merchants  for  drawing  their  wine  from  the  wood.  Thii  wai 
hoisted  out  again,  filled  with  the  sweet  fluid  which  the  keg 
contained ;  and  which  was  at  once  administered,  —  first  to 
Lilly  Lalee,  then  to  William's  own  especial  protector,  Ben 
Brace ;  and  lastly,  after  a  fresh  draw  from  the  keg,  to  the 
real  owner  of  the  wine,  —  the  Coromantee. 

The  spirit  of  the  grape,  grown  upon  the  declivities  of  Tene- 
riffe,  acted  like  magic  on  all  three  ;  and  in  a  few  minutes 
both  sailor  and  sea-cook  were  sufficiently  restored  to  think 
about  taking  certain  prudent  measures,  that  had  now  become 
necessary,  and  that  would  require  a  fresh  exertion  of  their 
strength. 

These  measures  were  the  recovery  of  the  empty  casks 
which  William  had  detached  from  the  Catamaran  ;  and  for 
the  want  of  which  that  improvised  craft  not  only  lay  much 
lower  in  the  water  than  when  they  had  left  her,  but  was 
altogether  a  less  seaworthy  structure. 

The  sailor's  chest,  —  for  which  its  owner  now  felt  in- 
creased affection,  —  was  the  first  thing  secured ;  and  next 
the  cask  upon  which  Snowball  had  bestraddled  himself  to 
get  a  better  view.  Both  were  near,  and  easily  reached  by  a 
httle  rowing. 

The  other  three  casks  had  drifted  to  a  considerable  dis- 
tance to  leeward,  and  were  still  continuing  their  course ;  but 
as  all  three  were  in  sight,  the  crew  of  the  Catamaran  an- 
ticipated no  great  difficulty  in  overtaking  them. 

Nor  did  any  occur.  A  pair  of  oars  handled  by  the  sailor 
and  sea-cook,  with  the  sailor-boy  standing  up  to  direct  the 
course  in  which  they  should  pull,  soon  brought  the  raft  down 
upon  the  straying  hogsheads  ;  and  they  were  picked  up  one 
after  the  other,  the  severed  ropes  respliced,  and  all  of  them 
set  back  in  their  old  positions,  —  so  that  but  for  the  wet  gar- 
ments clinging  around  the  bodies  of  those  who  had  been 
overboard,  and  perhaps  the  pale  and  wearied  expression 
upon  their  countenances,  no  one  could  have  told  that  any- 
thing had  gone  wrong  on  board  the  Catamaran. 


REFITTING  THE  BAFT.  151 

As  to  their  wet  clothes,  none  of  them  cared  much  foi 
lhat ;  and  if  there  had  been  any  discomfort  in  it,  it  was  not 
likely  to  continue  long  under  the  hot  sun  then  shining  down 
upon  them.  So  rapidly  was  this  part  of  the  damage  becom- 
ing repaired  that  all  three,  —  but  more  especially  Snowball. 
—  were  now  surrounded  by  a  cloud  of  evaporation  thai 
would  soon  dry  every  stitch  of  clothing  they  had  on. 

The  negro,  —  partly  from  the  natural  heat  proceeding 
from  his  own  body,  and  partly  from  the  strong  sunbeams,  — 
was  smoking  like  a  fresh  kindled  pit  of  charcoal :  so  that, 
through  the  strata  of  steam  that  encompassed  his  head  and 
shoulders,  it  would  have  been  impossible  to  tell  whether  he 
was  black  or  white.  In  the  midst  of  this  Juno-like  nimbus 
however,  the  negro  continued  to  talk  and  act,  helping  the 
sailor  and  little  William,  until  not  only  were  the  water-casks 
restored  to  their  proper  places,  but  the  sail  was  hauled  up  to 
the  mast,  and  the  Catamaran  once  more  scudding  before  the 
breeze,  as  if  not  the  slightest  accident  had  occurred  either 
to  craft  or  crew. 

Care  was  taken,  however,  this  time  to  make  fast  the 
halliard  rope  with  a  proper  "  belay  "  ;  and  although  Snow- 
ball might  have  deserved  a  caution  to  be  more  vigilant  for 
the  future,  it  was  not  deemed  necessary  to  administer  it,  as 
it  was  thought  the  peril  out  of  which  they  had  so  miraculously 
escaped  would  prove  to  him  a  sufficient  reminder. 

There  was  but  one  misfortune  arising  out  of  the  adven- 
ture that  might  have  caused  the  crew  of  the  Catamaran  any 
serious  regret.  This  was  the  loss  of  a  large  portion  of  their 
stock  of  provisions,  —  consisting  of  the  dried  fish,  —  partly 
those  that  had  been  half  cured  by  Snowball  previous  to  the 
union  of  the  two  rafts,  and  partly  the  flitches  of  shark-meat, 
that  had  been  taken  from  the  lesser  raft,  and  added  to  Snow- 
ball's store. 

These,  with  the  object  of  having  them  thoroughly  dried, 
had  been  exposed  to  the"  sun,  on  the  tops  of  the  water-caski 


152  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

which  little  William  had  let  loose.  In  the  hurry  and  ex 
citement  of  the  moment,  it  was  not  likely  the  lad  should 
give  a  thought  to  the  flitches  of  fish.  Nor  did  he ;  and 
while  freeing  the  water-casks  from  their  fastenings,  and 
pushing  them  off  from  the  raft,  the  pieces  were  all  permitted 
to  slide  off  into  the  water,  and  either  swim  or  go  to  the 
bottom,  as  their  specific  gravity  might  dictate.  The  conse- 
quence was,  that,  when  everything  else  was  recovered,  these 
were  lost,  —  having  actually  gone  to  the  bottom,  or  floated 
out  of  sight ;  or,  what  was  more  probable  than  either,  hav- 
ing been  picked  up  by  the  numerous  predatory  birds  hover- 
ing in  the  heavens  above,  or  the  equally  voracious  fish  quar- 
tering the  depths  of  the  ocean  underneath. 

It  was  not  without  some  chagrin  that  Snowball  contem- 
plated his  reduced  stores,  —  a  chagrin  in  which  his  compan- 
ions could  equally  participate.  At  the  time,  however,  they 
felt  the  misfortune  less  bitterly  than  they  might  otherwise 
have  done,  —  their  spirits  being  buoyed  up  by  the  miracu- 
lous escape  they  had  just  made,  as  well  as  by  a  hope  that 
the  larder  so  spent  might  be  replenished,  and  by  a  process 
similar  to  that  by  which  it  had  been  originally  stocked. 


CHAPTER    XLIV. 

THE   ALBACORES. 

f  ¥1HE  hope  of  replenishing  their  larder  was  likely  to  b« 
-1     realized  easily,  and  erelong. 

Scarce  had  their  sail  caught  the  breeze,  when  they  per- 
ceived alongside  the  Catamaran  a  shoal  of  the  most  beauti- 
fol  flsh  that  are  *o  be  found  in  any  part  of  the  boundless 
ocean.  There  were  several  hundreds  in  the  shoal ;  like 


THE  ALBACORES.  153 

mackerel,  all  nearly  of  one  size,  and  swimming,  moreover 
in  the  same  direction,  — just  as  a  school  of  mackerel  are 
seen  to  do. 

They  were  much  larger,  however,  than  the  common 
mackerel,  —  each  being  about  four  feet  in  length,  with  a 
stout,  though  well-proportioned  body,  having  that  peculiar 
elegance  of  shape  which  belongs  to  all  the  mackerel  tribe. 

Their  color  was  sufficient  of  itself  to  entitle  them  to  the 
appellation  of  beautiful  creatures.  It  was  a  bright  turquoise 
blue  or  azure,  showing,  in  certain  lights,  a  tinge  of  gold. 
This  was  the  color  of  their  backs ;  while  undernea  h  thej 
were  of  a  silvery  white,  gleaming  with  a  lively  iridescence 
A  row  of  spurious  fins  above  the  tail,  and  another  under- 
neath, were  of  a  bright  yellow;  while  their  large  rouna 
eyes  exhibited  an  iris  of  silver. 

Their  pectoral  fins  were  very  long  and  sickle-shaped; 
while  the  dorsal  one,  also  well  developed,  presented  a  struc- 
tural peculiarity  in  having  a  deep  groove  running  longitudi- 
nally down  the  spine  of  the  back,  into  which  the  fin, — 
when  at  rest  and  depressed,  —  exactly  fitted :  becoming  so 
completely  sheathed  and  concealed,  as  to  give  to  the  fish  the 
appearance  of  being  without  this  apparatus  altogether ! 

If  we  except  their  lovely  hues,  their  greater  size,  and  a 
few  other  less  notable  circumstances,  the  fishes  in  question 
might  have  been  taken  for  mackerel ;  and  it  would  have 
been  no  great  mistake  to  so  describe  them :  since  they  were 
in  reality  of  this  genus.  They  were  of  a  different  species, 
however,  —  the  most  beautiful  species  of  the  mackerel  tribe. 

"  A"  Ibacore ! "  cried  Ben  Brace,  as  soon  as  he  saw  them 
shooting  alongside  the  raft.  "  Albacore  be  they.  Now, 
Snowy,  out  wi'  your  hooks  an'  lines.  In  this  fresh  breeze 
they  be  a'most  sure  to  bite ;  and  we  '11  be  able,  I  hope,  to 
make  up  for  the  loss  o'  the  others.  Hush  all  o'  ye  !  Ne'er 
a  word;  ne'er  a  movement  to  scare  'em  off.  Softly,  Snowy J 
softly,  ye  ole  sea-cook  ' 


154  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS 

"  No  fear,  Massa  Brace,  —  no  fear  o'  dem  leabin  dis  ole 
Catamaran,  so  long 's  de  be  a  gwine  on  dat  fashion.  Looke« 
Jar  !  Fuss  to  one  side,  den  de  todder,  —  back  and  for'rad 
as  ef  de  cud  n't  be  content  nowha." 

While  Snowball  was  speaking,  and  before  be  had  com 
menced,  the  albacores  had  entered  upon  a  peculiar  move- 
ment. On  first  joining  company  with  the  Catamaran,  they 
swam  for  a  time  alongside,  —  the  starboard  side,  —  keeping 
pace  with  the  raft,  and  evidently  making  no  exertion  to  go 
ahead  of  her,  as  they  might  easily  have  done.  On  the  con- 
trary, they  scarce  moved  their  fins ;  but  floated  slowly  along 
at  the  exact  rate  of  speed  at  which  the  craft  was  sailing, 
and  not  one  bit  faster.  As  they  swam  parallel  to  the  raft, 
and  also  parallel  to  each  other,  one  might  have  fancied  them 
all  joined  together  by  some  invisible  link,  that  kept  them 
from  changing  their  relative  positions  both  to  the  Catamaran 
and  to  one  another ! 

All  at  once,  however,  and  quick  as  the  change  of  a  kalei- 
doscope, this  parallelism  was  terminated,  —  not  as  regarded 
each  other,  but  with  respect  to  the  course  of  the  Catamaran, 
By  a  single  flutter  of  their  tails,  the  whole  school  was  seen 
simultaneously  turning  head  towards  the  craft ;  and  then, 
like  a  flash  of  lightning,  they  passed  underneath. 

For  a  moment  they  were  out  of  sight ;  but  in  the  next 
they  appeared  on  the  starboard  beam,  swimming  parallel  as 
before,  both  to  the  course  of  the  Catamaran  and  to  each 
other.  The  manoeuvre  was  executed  with  such  precision 
and  uniformity,  as  could  not  be  imitated  among  men,  — even 
under  the  tuition  of  the  ablest  drill-sergeant  that  ever  ex- 
isted. They  swerved  from  right  to  left,  as  if  each  and  all 
were  actuated  by  the  same  impulse,  and  at  the  same  instant 
of  time.  At  the  same  instant  their  tails  made  a  movement 
in  the  water,  —  at  precisely  the  same  point  of  time  they 
turned  together,  —  showing  a  list  of  its  silvery  abdomen, 
and  with  like  simultaneous  action  did  they  dive  under  th« 
keel  of  the  Catamaran. 


THE  ALBACORES.  15* 

It  was  this  peculiar  manoeuvre  on  the  part  of  the  fish,  — • 
won  after  repeated  by  their  shooting  back  to  the  starboard, 
and  again  returning  to  larboard,  —  that  had  elicited  from 
Snowball  the  assertion,  so  confidently  put  forward,  that 
there  was  no  fear  of  their  leaving  the  Catamaran,  so  long 
as  they  were  going  in  that  fashion. 

Of  those  upon  the  raft,  Ben  Brace  alone  comprehended 
Snowball's  meaning.  To  little  William  it  was  a  matter  of 
some  surprise  when  the  ex-sea-cook  spoke  so  confidently,  and 
acted,  moreover,  as  if  he  had  no  fear  of  frightening  the  shy- 
looking  creatures  that  were  swimming  alongside. 

"  Why,  Snowy  ?  "  asked  the  lad,  —  "  why  is  there  no  fear 
of  their  being  scared  off  ?  " 

"  Kase,  lilly  Willy,  I  hab  de  idea  dar  be  something  else, 
not  far  off,  dat  dem  albacore  am  more  feerd  on  dan  we.  I 
no  see  dat  someting  yet.  We  sure  see  de  long  snout,  by  'm 
by." 

u  The  long  snout !  —  what  do  you  mean  by  that, 
Snowy  ?  " 

"  Wha  do  a  mean  ?  —  de  long  nose  a  mean.  Tole  ye  so ! 
dar  he  be  yonner,  —  right  on  de  la'bord  qnater.  Dis  nigger 
knew  he  no  far  off.  Da 's  why  de  beauties  hab  come  roun 
de  raff;  an  dat  I  hope  keep  um  hyar  till  we  hab  cotch  n 
few  ob  dem  I " 

"  A  shark  ! "  cried  the  boy  sailor,  catching  a  glance  of 
some  large  fish  at  some  distance  out  in  the  water  on  the  lar- 
board bow,  —  the  direction  in  which  Snowball  had  pointed. 

"  Shark !  nuffin  ob  de  kind,"  rejoined  the  negro  ;  "  diff 'rent 
sort  ob  fish  altogedder.  If  him  wa  shark,  de  albacore  no 
stay  hyar.  Dey  go  up  to  him,  and  dart  all  'bout  im, — jess 
like  de  lilly  birds  when  dey  see  big  hawk  or  de  vulture. 
No  shark  he,  —  dat  ere  skulkin'  fella.  He  am  massa  iong 
nose,  —  de  real  enemy  ob  de  albacore.  No  fear  ob  dem 
leabin'  us,  while  he  an/whar  in  sight." 

Saying  this  the  Coromantee  proceeded  to  single  out  hii 


156  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

hooks  ;  and,  assisted  by  Ben  Brace,  commenced  baiting 
them  with  an  unconcern  that  testified  a  full  confidence  in  th« 
truth  of  his  assertion. 


CHAPTER    XLV. 

THE    SWORD-FISH. 

T  ITTLE  William,  —  whose  curiosity  had  become  ex- 
JLj  cited  at  the  appearance  of  the  strange  fish,  —  stood 
looking  over  the  larboard  quarter,  in  hopes  of  getting  a 
better  view  of  it. 

As  yet,  he  had  only  obtained  a  slight  glimpse  of  it :  for 
the  larboard  quarter  lay  towards  the  southwest,  and  the  sun, 
just  then  sinking  down  upon  the  sea,  hindered  him  from 
having  a  fair  opportunity  to  scan  the  surface  in  that  par- 
ticular direction. 

Shading  his  eyes  with  the  palm  of  his  hand,  he  gazed  for 
some  time,  but  saw  nothing,  —  either  upon  the  surface  or 
under  it.  Snowball,  notwithstanding  that  he  seemed  wholly 
occupied  with  the  hooks  and  lines,  took  notice  of  the  recon- 
noissance  of  the  sailor  lad. 

"  No  use  you  look  dat  way,  lilly  Willy,"  said  he.  "  Doan 
you  see  dat  de  abbacores  are  now  on  de  larbord  side. 
Wheneber  dey  am  on  de  larbord,  you  look  for  long  nose  on 
de  etarbord.  Truss  dem  take  care  dey  no  get  on  de  same 
side  wit'  dat  ere  fella." 

"  There,  Will'm  ! "  interposed  Ben.  "  Look  out  that 
way !  there  he  be,  —  right  astarn,  —  don't  ye  see  ?  " 

"  I  see,  I  see  ! "  cried  William.  "  0,  look,  Lalee  !  What 
fcn  odd  fish  it  is !  I  never  saw  one  like  it  before." 

This  \ras  true ;  for  although  the  young  sailer  had  already 


THE  SWORD-FISH.  167 

tr»f  ersed  uuny  A  lotig  league  of  the  Atlantic  Ocean,  he  had 
not  yet  seen  a  fish  ot  the  same  kind  ;  and  he  might  traverse 
hundreds  of  long  leagues  of  any  of  the  oceans  without  see- 
ing the  like  again. 

It  was,  in  truth,  one  of  the  most  singular  denizens  of  tha 
great  deep  that  had  thus  come  under  the  observation  of  the 
Catamarans  crew,  —  so  peculiar  in  its  appearance  that, 
without  the  intervention  of  Ben  Brace,  who  at  that  moment 
called  out  iU  name,  the  boy  could  have  pronounced  it  for 
himself. 

It  was  a  fijh  of  some  eight  or  ten  feet  in  length ;  with  a 
long  bony  snout,  projecting  horizontally  forward,  at  least 
one  third  of  the  length  of  its  body.  This  snout  was  noth- 
ing more  than  a  prolongation  of  the  upper  jaw,  —  perfectly 
straight,  of  osseous  structure,  and  tapering  towards  the  end 
like  the  blade  of  a  rapier. 

Otherwise  the  fish  was  not  ill-formed ;  nor  did  it  present 
that  hideous  aspect  characteristic  of  the  more  predatory 
creatures  that  inhabit  the  ocean.  For  all  that,  there  was  a 
certain  shyness  combined  with  great  swiftness  in  its  motion, 
—  a  skulking  in  its  attitudes :  as  Snowball's  speech  had 
already  declared,  —  a  truculent,  trap-like  expression  in  its 
quick  watchful  eyes,  that  told  of  an  animal  whose  whole 
existence  was  passed  in  the  pursuit  of  prey. 

It  was  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  William  should  have 
mistaken  the  creature  for  a  shark :  for,  in  addition  to  the 
fact  of  the  sun  being  in  his  eyes,  there  were  points  of  simi- 
larity between  the  fish  in  question,  and  certain  species  of 
sharks,  requiring  a  good  view  and  an  experienced  observer 
to  tell  the  difference.  William  perceived  a  large  crescent, 
shaped  fin  rising  several  inches  above  the  surface  of  the 
water,  —  a  tail  lunated  like  that  of  the  shark,  —  a  hungry 
eye,  and  prowling  attitude :  the  very  characteristics  of  the 
dreaded  tyrant  of  the  deep. 

There  was  one  thirg  in  which  the  creature  in  questioj 


158  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

differed  materially  from  all  the  individuals  of  the  syualut 
tribe.  Instead  of  swimming  slowly,  it  appeared  to  be  one 
of  the  swiftest  of  fishes :  for  at  each  instant  as  the  albacores 
changed  their  position  from  one  side  of  the  raft  to  the  other, 
the  long-snouted  creature  was  seen  to  shoot  to  the  same  side 
with  a  velocity  that  almost  baffled  the  sight  to  keep  pace 
with  it. 

In  fact,  the  eye  could  scarcely  have  traced  its  course,  had 
it  not  been  aided  by  two  circumstances  altogether  strange 
and  peculiar.  The  first  was  that  the  strange  fish,  while 
darting  from  point  to  point,  caused  a  rushing  sound  in  the 
water ;  like  that  produced  by  heavy  rain  falling  upon  the 
leaves  of  a  forest.  The  second  peculiarity  was,  that  while 
thus  progressing  its  hues  became  completely  changed.  In- 
stead of  the  dull  brown,  —  its  color  when  at  rest,  —  its  body 
presented  a  striated  appearance,  —  a  brindling  of  bright  and 
dark  blue,  —  sometimes  heightened  to  a  uniform  azure ! 

It  was  not  these  peculiarities  that  had  guided  little  William 
to  the  identification  of  the  species ;  but  the  long,  tapering 
snout,  straight  as  a  rapier,  that  projected  in  front  of  its  body. 
This  was  a  token  not  to  be  mistaken,  —  never  to  be  forgotten 
by  one  who  had  seen  it  before.  And  the  young  sailor  had 
before  seen  such  a  one;  not  at  sea,  nor  under  the  sea,  but  in 
a  collection  of  "  natural  curiosities,"  that  had  by  chance  been 
carried  though  his  native  town;  and  whose  inspection,  per- 
haps, had  much  to  do  with  that  impulse  that  first  caused 
him  to  "  run  away  to  sea."  Under  a  glass-case  he  had 
examined  that  piece  of  osseous  structure,  described  by  the 
showman  as  the  sword  of  the  sword-fish.  Under  the  waves  of 
the  tropical  Atlantic,  —  but  little  less  translucent  than  the 
glass, —  he  had  no  difficulty  in  identifying  the  formidable 
weapon ! 


THE  SWORDSMAN  OF  THE  SEA.  If  9 

CHAPTER    XLVI. 

THE   SWORDSMAN  OF   THE   SEA. 

WHILE  William  was  gazing  upon  the  strange  fish,  it 
was  seen  all  at  once  to  make  a  rush  in  the  direction 
of  the  raft.  They  could  hear  a  "swishing"  sound,  as  its 
huge  body  passed  through  the  water,  at  the  same  time  that 
its  great  scimetar-shaped  dorsal  fin,  projecting  above  the 
surface,  rapidly  traced  a  rippling  line  through  the  whole  of 
its  course. 

The  dash  was  evidently  directed  against  the  shoal  of  alba- 
core  swimming  alongside  the  Catamaran. 

But  these  creatures  were  constantly  on  the  alert.  Although 
exhibiting  every  symptom  of  fright,  they  did  not  seem  for 
an  instant  to  lose  their  presence  of  mind ;  and  as  the  sword- 
fish  was  seen  rushing  towards  them,  all  turned  as  if  by  a 
common  impulse,  and,  quick  as  lightning,  passed  to  the  other 
side  of  the  raft. 

The  sword-fish,  seeing  himself  foiled,  checked  the  velocity 
of  his  charge  with  a  suddenness  that  displayed  his  great 
natatory  powers;  and,  instead  of  pursuing  the  albacores 
under  the  Catamaran,  he  continued  to  follow  after  the  craft, 
in  a  sort  of  skulking,  cowardly  fashion,  —  as  if  he  designed 
to  use  stratagem  rather  than  strength  in  the  capture  of  his 
prey. 

It  soon  became  evident  to  little  William  that  the  albacores 
had  sought  the  companionship  of  the  Catamaran  less  from 
the  idea  of  obtaining  any  droppings  there  might  be  from  her 
decks,  than  as  a  protection  against  their  formidable  pursuer, 
—  the  sword-fish.  Indeed,  this  is  most  probably  the  reason 
why  not  only  the  albacores  and  their  kindred  the  bonitos, 
but  several  other  kinds  of  shoal-fish,  attach  themselves  t€ 
ships,  whales,  and  other  large  objecfcs,  that  they  maj  en- 
counter floating  or  saving  upon  the  opon  ocean* 


160  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

The  mode  in  which  the  sword-fish  makes  his  attack,  —  by 
rushing  irresistibly  upon  his  prey,  and  impaling  it  on  his 
long,  slender  beak,  —  is  full  of  risk  to  himself;  for  shonld 
his  "  sword "  come  in  contact  with  the  sides  of  a  ship,  or 
any  substance  of  sufficient  strength  to  withstand  his  impetu- 
ous "thrust,"  the  chances  are  that  the  weapon  either  gets 
broken  off  altogether,  or  so  embedded  that  the  owner  of  it 
falls  a  victim  to  his  rash  voracity. 

Under  the  excitement  of  fear,  and  occupied  in  watching 
the  movements  of  their  enemy,  Snowball  knew  there  was 
no  chance  of  the  albacores  paying  any  attention  to  the  hooks 
he  had  baited  for  them.  Instead,  therefore,  of  throwing 
them  over  the  side,  he  permitted  them  to  lie  upon  the  planks, 
and  waited  until  the  sword-fish  should  either  take  his  de- 
parture or  fall  far  enough  into  the  wake  of  the  Catamaran 
to  permit,  on  the  part  of  the  creatures  swimming  alongside, 
a  temporary  forgetfulness  of  his  presence. 

"  It  am  no  use  trowin'  dem  de  hook,"  said  he,  addressing 
himself  to  the  sailor,  "  no  use  jess  yet,  so  long  de  sharp 
snout  am  dar.  We  mus'  wait  till  he  go  out  ob  dar  sight  an 
out  ob  dar  hearin  too." 

"  I  suppose  we  must,"  rejoined  Ben ;  "  that  be  a  pity  too. 
They  'd  bite  greedy  enough,  if  the  ugly  thing  warn't  there. 
That  I  know,  for  I  Ve  seed  em  many 's  the  time." 

This  was  not  the  only  bit  of  information  concerning  the 
albacore  and  their  enemy  communicated  by  the  sailor  to  his 
companions  on  the  raft,  but  more  especially  to  his  protege, 
who,  feeling  a  strange  interest  in  those  creatures,  had  asked 
several  questions  concerning  them.  During  the  interval, 
while  they  were  waiting  for  some  change  in  the  tactics  of 
the  pursuer,  —  hoping  that  he  might  get  ahead  and  abandon 
the  pursuit,  —  lien  imparted  to  his  audience  several  chap« 
tore  of  his  experience,  —  in  which  either  albacore  or  sword- 
fish,  and  sometimes  both,  had  figured  as  the  principal  actors 

Among  othr  rs,  ho  related  tvn  anecdote  of  a  ship  in  which 


THE  SWORDSMAN  OF  THE  SEA.  161 

he  had  sailed  having  been  pierced  by  the  beak  of  a  aword- 
fish. 

At  the  time  the  incident  occurred  there  was  no  one  on 
board  who  had  any  suspicion  of  its  nature.  The  crew  were 
below  at  their  dinner ;  when  one  of  the  sailort  who  chanced 
to  be  on  deck  heard  a  loud  splashing  in  the  water.  On 
looking  over  the  ship's  side,  and  seeing  a  large  body  just 
sinking  below  the  surface,  the  sailor  supposed  it  to  be  some 
one  of  the  crew  who  had  gone  over,  and  instantly  raised  the 
cry  of  "  A  man  overboard ! " 

The  crew  were  paraded ;  when  it  was  ascertained  that  no 
one  was  missing.  Though  the  sailors  were  at  a  loss  to  ac- 
count for  the  singular  appearance,  the  alarm  soon  subsided ; 
and  nothing  more  was  thought  of  the  matter.  Shortly  after, 
one  of  the  men,  —  Ben  Brace  himself,  it  was,  —  chanced  to 
ascend  the  rigging ;  and  while  aloft  he  perceived  a  rugged 
mass  projecting  from  the  side  of  the  ship,  just  below  the 
water  line.  On  a  boat  being  lowered  and  the  thing  exam- 
ined, it  proved  to  be  the  rostrum  of  a  sword-fish,  broken  off 
from  the  animal's  head.  It  was  the  body  of  the  animal,  — 
no  doubt,  killed  by  the  concussion,  —  which  the  sailor  had 
seen  sinking  in  the  water. 

The  "  sword "  had  pierced  completely  through  the  copper 
sheathing  and  solid  timbers  of  the  larboard  bow  of  the  ship ; 
and  on  the  sailors  going  below,  they  found  eight  or  ten 
inches  of  its  top  projecting  into  the  inside,  embedded  among 
some  coals  contained  in  the  hold ! 

Singular  as  the  sailor's  story  might  appear,  it  was  not  in 
the  least  an  exaggeration.  Snowball  knew  it  was  not :  for 
the  ex-sea-cook  could  have  told  of  like  experiences;  and 
William  was  also  satisfied  of  its  truth,  from  having  read  the 
account  of  a  similar  incident,  and  heard  that  the  evidences 
of  it,  —  that  is,  a  piece  of  the  solid  wood  of  the  ship's  tim 
bers,  with  the  sword  imbedded  in  it,  —  were  to  be  seen  al 
any  time  in  the  British  -Museum. 


162  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

Just  as  Ben  had  finished  his  curious  relation,  a  movement 
Opon  the  part  of  the  pursuer  told  an  intention  of  changing 
his  tactics,  —  not  as  if  he  was  about  to  retreat,  but  rather  to 
assume  a  bolder  attitude  of  offence.  The  sight  of  such  a 
fine  shoal  of  fat  albacores,  —  so  near  and  yet  so  long  keep- 
ing clear  of  his  attack,  appeared  to  have  tantalized  him  to  a 
point  beyond  endurance ;  and,  being  extra  hungry,  perhaps 
he  was  determined  to  dine  upon  them,  coute  qui  coute. 

With  this  intent  he  drew  nearer  to  the  Catamaran, 
swooping  from  quarter  to  quarter,  then  along  the  sides,  and 
once  or  twice  darting  ahead,  so  as  to  create  in  the  shoal  a 
degree  of  excitement  that  might  force  them  into  irregularity 
of  action. 

This  very  effect  he  at  length  succeeded  in  producing ;  for 
the  pretty  creatures  became  more  frightened  than  ever ;  and 
instead  of  swimming,  as  hitherto,  in  concert,  and  parallel  to 
each  other  as  they  had  been  doing,  they  got  huddled  into  a 
crowd,  and  commenced  darting,  pell-mell,  in  every  direction. 

In  the  midst  of  their  confusion  a  large  band  became  sepa- 
rated, —  not  only  from  the  others,  but  from  the  Catamaran, 
—  and  fell  several  fathoms'  length  into  the  wake  of  the 
craft. 

Upon  these  the  hungry  eyes  of  the  prowling  monster 
were  now  fixed ;  but  only  for  a  moment :  for  in  the  next  he 
was  charging  down  among  them  with  a  velocity  that  caused 
the  water  to  spray  upwards  against  his  dorsal  fin,  while  the 
rushing  sound  made  by  bis  body  could  be  heard  afar 'off 
over  the  ocean. 

"Look,  Will'ml"  cried  Ben,  anxious  that  his  protege 
should  not  miss  seeing  the  curious  spectacle.  "  Look,  lad ! 
yonder 's  a  sight  worth  seein'.  Shiver  my  timbers,  if  he 
han't  got  a  brace  o'  'em  on  his  toastin'  fork ! " 

While  Ben  was  speaking,  the  sword-fish  had  charged  inw 
the  middle  of  the  frightened  flock.  There  was  a  momen- 
tary plashing,  —  as  several  of  the  albacores  leaped  jp  out 


ANGLING   FOR   ALBACORE.  163 

of  the  water  and  fell  back  again,  —  there  was  a  surging  and 
bubbling  over  a  few  yards  of  surface,  whkh  hindered  a 
clearer  view  of  what  was  passing;  and  then  outside  reap- 
peared the  sword-fish,  with  his  long  weapon  projected  above 
the  water,  and  a  brace  of  the  beautiful  albacores  impale^ 
upon  its  point! 

The  wretched  creatures  were  struggling  to  free  them- 
selves from  their  painful  position ;  but  their  struggles  were 
not  for  long.  They  were  terminated  almost  on  the  instant, 
—  by  the  sword-fish  giving  a  quick  jerk  of  his  head,  and 
tossing,  first  one  and  then  the  other  of  his  victims  high  into 
the  air! 

As  they  came  down  again,  it  was  to  fall,  not  upon  the 
water,  but  into  the  throat  of  the  voracious  tyrant;  who, 
although  toothless  and  without  any  means  of  masticating, 
made  shorter  work  of  it  by  introducing  them  untoothed,  and 
at  a  single  gulp,  into  his  capacious  maw ! 


CHAPTER    XLVI1. 

ANGLING   FOB  ALBACORE. 

FOR  a  while  the  crew  of  the  Catamaran  watched  the 
manoeuvres  of  the  sword-fish  with  a  degree  of  interest 
that  almost  caused  them  to  forget  their  own  forlorn  situation. 
Little  William  and  Lilly  Lalee  were  especially  delighted 
with  the  singular  spectacle ;  and  long  after  the  sailor  and 
Snowball  had  turned  their  attention  to  other  and  more  neces- 
sary matters,  the  two  stood  side  by  side  gazing  out  upon  the 
ocean  in  the  direction  in  which  the  sea-swordsman  had  been 
»een. 

We  say  had  been  seen :  for,  after  swallowing  the  bi  aoe  of 


164  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

albacores,  the  voracious  monster  had  suddenly  disappeared, 
either  by  diving  deep  down  into  the  sea,  or  shooting  off  t« 
some  distant  point. 

Little  William  and  Lalee  looked  everywhere,  —  first 
astern,  where  the  swordsman  had  made  the  display  of  his 
skill ;  then  on  both  sides ;  and,  finally,  ahead.  They  looked 
in  these  different  directions,  —  because,  from  what  they  had 
already  seen  of  its  natative  powers,  they  knew  that  the  great 
fish  could  pass  in  a  few  seconds  through  a  hundred  fathoms 
of  water,  and  therefore  was  as  likely  to  be  on  one  sic1*  aa 
the  other. 

On  no  side,  however,  could  the  fish  be  seen ;  ai*J,  al- 
though both  the  sailor  lad  and  Lalee  would  have  been 
pleased  to  witness  a  little  more  of  that  same  sword  exercise, 
they  were  at  length  forced  to  the  conclusion  that  the  per- 
formance was  over  and  the  performer  gone  away,  —  perhaps, 
to  exhibit  his  prowess  in  some  other  quarter  of  the  aquatic 
world. 

"  Berry  like,  —  berry  like  he  gone  way,"  said  Snowball, 
in  reply  to  the  interrogatory  of  little  William.  "  A  good 
ting  if  dat  am  de  fack ;  fo'  den  we  hab  chance  to  hook  up 
some  o'  dese  hya  abbacore.  See  dem  now !  Doan'  you  see 
how  berry  different  dey  are  behavin'.  Dey  no  longer  'feerd. 
Dat  am  sign  dat  de  long  snout  hab  turn  him  nose  in  some 
oder  direckshun.  He  gone  fo'  sartin." 

Sure  enough  the  behavior  of  the1  albacores  was  very 
much  altered,  as  Snowball  had  affirmed.  Instead  of  flashing 
about  from  one  side  of  the  raft  to  the  other,  and  exhibiting 
manifest  symptoms  of  alarm,  they  now  swam  placidly  along- 
side, at  a  regular  rate  of  speed,  just  keeping  up  with  the 
Catamaran. 

They  looked,  moreover,  as  if  they  would  now  take  the 
bait,  which  during  the  presence  of  the  sword-fish  they  had 
obstinately  refused  to  touch,  though  frequently  flung,  both  b? 
Snowball  and  the  sailor,  right  under  their  snouts. 


ANGLING   FOR  ALBACORE.  165 

Both  were  again  preparing  to  repeat  their  angling  opera- 
.dons  ;  and  in  a  few  seconds'  time  each  had  his  hock  ready, 
with  a  piece  of  shark-meat  temptingly  attached  to  it,  —  the 
bait  being  rendered  still  more  attractive  from  having  a  little 
shred  of  scarlet  flannel  looped  around  the  shank  of  the 
hook,  while  several  fathoms  of  stout  sennit-cord  served  aa 
trolling-lines. 

Plash  into  the  water  went  the  two  baited  hooks,  both  at 
once ;  and,  almost  before  the  ripples  caused  by  the  plunge 
had  ceased  to  circle  upon  the  surface,  a  still  louder  plashing 
could  be  heard,  and  a  much  rougher  ripple  seen,  —  in  short, 
a  large  space  of  the  surface  agitated  into  foam,  where  a 
brace  of  albacores  were  fluking  and  struggling  on  the  re- 
spective hooks  of  Snowball  and  the  sailor. 

Right  rapidly  were  they  hauled  aboard,  and  their  strug- 
gles brought  to  a  termination  by  a  smart  tap  on  the  head 
administered  to  each  in  succession,  by  a  handspike,  which 
had  suddenly  found  its  way  into  the  grasp  of  the  sailor. 

No  time  was  thrown  away  in  contemplating  the  captives, 
or  triumphing  over  their  capture.  Little  William  and  La- 
lee  alone  examined  the  two  beautiful  creatures  thus  brought 
within  their  reach ;  while  Snowball  and  the  sailor,  rapidly 
readjusting  the  baits  upon  their  hooks,  that  had  been  slightly 
disarranged  by  the  teeth  of  the  tunnies,  —  for  the  albacore 
is  a  species  of  tunny  fish,  —  once  more  flung  them  forth. 

This  time  the  baits  were  not  so  greedily  "  grabbed  "  at 
As  if  the  "  school "  had  become  suspicious,  they  all  for  a 
considerable  time  fought  ehy  of  it ;  but,  as  it  was  trolled  so 
temptingly  under  their  very  snouts,  first  one  and  then  an- 
other began  to  make  approach,  —  now  nearer  and  nearer, 
one  or  two  taking  a  nibble  at  it,  and  then  dropping  it  again, 
and  suddenly  shying  off,  —  as  if  they  had  discovered  some- 
thing unj  \easant  either  in  its  taste  or  touch. 

This  delicate  nibbling  continued  for  several  ncinutes  ,• 
when,  at  length,  an  albacore  more  courageous  than  »ts  com 


166  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

panions,  or  perhaps  with  an  emptier  stomach  than  the  rest, 
at  sight  of  the  tempting  morsel  suddenly  took  leave  of  his 
discretion ;  and,  darting  forward,  seized  the  bait  upon  Ben's 
hook,  swallowing  bait,  hook,  and  several  inches  of  the  sennit- 
cord,  at  a  single  gulp  ! 

There  was  no  danger  of  its  being  able  to  detach  itself 
from  that  hook.  The  barb  was  already  fast  in  its  entrails 
before  Ben  gave  the  jerk  to  secure  it.  Another  jerk  brought 
Ihe  fish  out  of  its  native  element,  landing  it  amidships  on 
board  the  Catamaran,  where,  like  its  two  predecessors,  it 
was  instantly  knocked  on  the  head. 

Snowball  continued  to  "troll"  his  line  in  the  most  ap- 
proved fashion ;  and  was  soon  again  joined  by  his  brother 
"  piscator,"  who,  after  settling  the  scores  with  the  second 
fish  he  had  caught,  had  adjusted  a  fresh  bait,  and  once  more 
flung  his  line  into  the  water. 

For  some  reason  or  other,  the  albacores  became  suddenly 
shy,  —  not  as  if  alarmed  at  the  action  of  the  anglers,  but 
rather  from  having  their  attention  attracted  to  some  other 
object  invisible  to  the  eyes  of  those  on  the  Catamaran. 
The  fish  were  so  near  the  raft,  that  every  movement  made 
by  them  could  be  easily  observed,  —  even  to  the  glancing  of 
their  silvery  irides,  —  and  those  who  observed  them  could 
see  that  they  were  looking  aloft. 

Up  went  the  eyes  of  the  Catamarans,  both  anglers  and 
idlers  turning  their  glances  towards  the  sky.  There  wag 
nothing  to  be  seen  there,  —  at  least,  nothing  to  account  for 
the  shyness  of  the  fish,  or  the  upward  cast  of  their  eyeballs. 
So  thought  three  of  the  party,  —  little  William,  Lalee,  and 
the  sailor,  —  who  beheld  only  the  blue,  cloudless  canopy  of 
the  heavens. 

Snowball,  however,  whose  single  experience  of  ocean  life 
was  greater  than  the  sum  total  of  the  other  three  twice  told, 
did  not,  like  the  rest,  desist  all  :U  oncn  from  his  scrutiny 
of  the  sky,  but  remained  gazing  with  upturned  look  for  a 
period  of  several  minutes. 


ANGLING  FOR  ALBACORE.  167 

At  the  termination  of  that  time,  an  exclamatory  phrase, 
escaping  from  his  lips,  proclaimed  the  discovery  of  some  ob- 
ject that,  to  his  mind,  accounted  for  the  odd  behavior  of  the 
albacores. 

"  De  frigate-bird  !  "  was  the  phrase  that  came  mutteringly 
from  between  Snowball's  teeth.  "  Ya,  ya,  —  dar  am  two  ob 
dem,  —  de  cock  an'  hen,  I  s'pose.  Dat  'counts  for  de  scari- 
ness  of  dese  kya  fish.  Dat 's  what  am  doin'  it." 

"  0,  a  frigate-bird ! "  said  Ben  Brace,  recognizing  in  Snow- 
ball's synonyme  one  of  the  most  noted  wanderers  of  the  ocean, 
—  the  Pelicanus  aquila  of  the  naturalists,  but  which,  from 
its  swift  flight  and  graceful  form,  is  better  known  to  mariners 
under  the  appellation  given  to  it  by  Snowball. 

"  Where  away  ?  "  interrogated  the  sailor.  "  I  don't  see 
bird  o'  any  sort.  Where  away,  Snowy  ?  " 

"  Up  yonner,  —  nearly  straight  ober  head,  —  close  by  dat 
lilly  'peck  ob  cloud.  Dar  dey  be,  one  on  de  one  side,  odder 
on  t'odder,  —  de  ole  cock  an'  de  ole  hen,  I'se  be  boun' !  " 

"  Your  daylights  be  uncommon  clear,  nigger.  I  don't  see 
ne'er  a  bird  —  Ah,  now  I  do  !  —  two  of  'em,  as  you  say. 
Ye  're  right,  Snowy.  Them  be  frigates  to  a  sartainty.  It 's 
easy  to  tell  the  cut  o'  thar  wings  from  any  other  bird  as  flops 
over  the  sea.  Beside,  there  be  no  other  I  knows  on  as  goes 
up  to  that  height.  Cousiderin'  that  thar  wings  be  spread 
nigh  a  dozen  feet,  if  not  all  o'  that,  and  that  they  don't  look 
bigger  than  barn-swallows,  I  reckon  they  must  be  mor  'n  a 
mile  overhead  o'  us.  Don't  you  think  so,  Snowy  ?  " 

"  Mile,  Massa  Brace  !  Ya,  dey  am  two  mile  'bove  us  at 
de  berry  lees.  Dey  doan'  'peer  to  move  an  inch  from  dat 
same  spot.  Dar  be  no  doubt  dat  boaf  o'  em  am  sounl 
'sleep. 

"  Asleep ! "  echoed  little  William,  in  a  tone  that  betokened 
a  large  measure  of  astonishment.  "  You  don't  say,  Snow- 
ball, that  a  bird  can  go  to  sleep  upon  the  wing  ?  " 

"  Whoo !  lilly  Willy,  dat  all  you  know  'bcut  de  birls  ii 


168  THE   OGKAX   WAIFS. 

dis  hya  part  ol  do  wor]'  ?  Sleep  on  de  wing!  Sartiii  dey 
go  'sleep  on  de  wing,  an'  some  time  wif  de  wing  fold  close  to 
dar  body,  an'  de  head  tuck  under  'im,  —  don't  dey,  Mass? 
Brace  ?  " 

"  I  ain't  sartin  as  to  that,"  doubtingly  answered  the  ex- 
man-o'-war's-man.  "  I  've  heerd  so :  but  it  do  seem  sort  c 
unnat'ral." 

"  Whoo !  "  rejoined  Snowball,  with  a  slightly  derisive  in- 
clination of  the  head ;  "  why  for  no  seem  nat'ral  ?  De  frigate 
hersef  she  sleep  on  de  water  widout  sails  set,  —  not  eben  a 
fetitch  ob  her  canvas.  Well,  den  :  why  no  dem  frigate-birds 
in  de  air  ?  What  de  water  am  to  de  ship  de  air  am  to  de 
birds.  What  hinder  'em  to  take  dar  nap  up  yonner,  'ceptiu' 
when  dar 's  a  gale  ob  wind  ?  Ob  coos  dat  u'd  interrup'  dar 
repose." 

"  Well,  nigger,"  rejoined  the  sailor,  in  a  tone  that  betokened 
no  very  zealous  partisanship  for  either  side  of  the  theory, 
"  you  may  be  right,  or  you  may  be  wrong.  I  ar'  n't  goin'  to 
gi'e  you  the  lie,  one  way  or  t'  other.  All  I  know  is,  that  I  've 
seed  frigates  a-standing  in  the  air,  as  them  be  now,  making 
way  neyther  to  windart  or  leuwart;  f'r  all  that  I  didn't 
balieve  they  was  asleep.  I  kud  see  thar  forked  tails  openin' 
and  closin'  jist  like  the  blades  o'  a  pair  o'  shears ;  and  that 
inclined  me  to  think  they  war  wide  awake  all  the  time.  If 
they  was  asleep,  how  kud  they  a-kep  waggin'  thar  tails? 
Though  a  bird's  tail  be  but  feathers,  still  it  must  ha'  some 
feelin'  in  it." 

"  Law,  Massa  Ben ! "  retorted  the  negro,  in  a  still  more 
patronizing  tone,  as  if  pitying  the  poverty  of  the  sailor's 
syllogism,  "  you  no  tink  it  possible  that  one  move  in  dar 
sleep  ?  You  nebber  move  you  big  toe,  or  you  foot,  or  some- 
time de  whole  ob  you  leg  ?  Beside,"  continued  the  logician, 
passing  to  a  fresh  point  of  his  argument,  "  how  you  s'pose  de 
frigate-bird  do  'idout  sleep  ?  You  know  berry  well  he  not 
got  de  power  to  swim,  —  him  feet  only  half  web.  He  no 


ANGLING  FOR  ALBACORE.  169 

more  sit  on  de  water  dan  a  guinea -fo.vl,  or  a  ole  hen  ob  de 
dunghill.  As  foi*  him  go  'sleep  on  de  sea,  it  no  more  possyble 
dan  for  you  or  me,  Massa  Ben." 

"  Well,  Snowy,"  slowly  responded  the  sailor,  rather  pushed 
for  a  reply,  "  I  'm  willin'  to  acknowledge  all  that.  It  look 
like  the  truth,  an'  k  don't,  —  both  at  the  same  time.  I  can't 
understan'  how  a  bird  can  go  to  sleep  up  in  the  air,  no  more 
'n  I  could  hang  my  old  tarpaulin'  hat  on  the  corner  o'  & 
cloud.  Same  time  I  acknowledge  that  I  'm  puzzled  to  make 
out  how  them  thar  frigates  can  take  thar  rest.  The  only 
explanation  I  can  think  o'  is,  that  every  night  they  fly  back 
to  the  shore,  an'  turns  in  thar." 

.  "  Whoogh !  Massa  Brace,  you  knows  better  dan  dat. 
I  'se  heerd  say  dat  de  frigate-bird  nebber  am  seed  more  'n  a 
hunder  league  from  de  shore.  Dam  !  Dis  nigga  hab  seed 
dat  same  ole  cock  five  time  dat  distance  from  land,  —  in  de 
middle  ob  de  wide  Atlantic,  whar  we  sees  'um  now.  Wish 
it  was  true  he  nebber  'tray  more  dan  hunder  knots  from  de 
land ;  we  might  hab  some  chance  reach  it  den.  Hunde: 
league  !  Golly  !  more  'n  twice  dat  length  we  am  from  land ; 
and  dere  's  dem  long-wing  birds  hov'rin'  'bove  our  heads,  an 
sleepin'  as  tranquil  as  ebber  dis  nigga  did  in  de  caboose  ot 
de  ole  Pandora" 

Ben  made  no  reply.  Whether  the  reasoning  of  the  Coro- 
mantee  was  correct  or  only  sophistical,  the  facts  were  the 
same.  Two  forms  were  in  the  sky,  outlined  against  the  back- 
ground of  cerulean  blue.  Though  distant,  and  apparently 
motionless,  they  were  easily  distinguishable  as  living  things 
—  as  birds,  —  and  of  a  kind  so  peculiar,  that  the  eye  of  the 
rude  African,  and  even  that  of  the  almost  equally  rule  Sax- 
on, could  distinguish  the  species. 


170  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

CHAPTER    XLVIII. 

THE   FRIGATE-BIRD. 

fT^IHE  frigate-bird  (Pelicanus  aquila),  which  had  thus  be- 

1  come  the  subject  of  conversation  on  board  the  Calami* 
ran,  is  in  many  respects  very  different  from  other  ocean  birds. 
Although  generally  classed  with  the  pelicans,  it  bears  but  a 
very  slight  resemblance  to  any  species  of  these  misshapen, 
unwieldy,  goose-like  creatures. 

It  differs  from  most  other  birds  frequenting  the  sea  in  the 
fact  of  its  feet  being  but  slightly  webbed,  and  its  claws  be- 
ing talons,  like  those  of  hawks  or  eagles. 

Otherwise,  also,  does  it  resemble  these  last  birdt,  —  so 
much  that  the  sailors,  noting  the  resemblance,  indifferently 
call  it  "  sea-hawk,"  "  man-of-war  hawk,"  and  "  man-of-war 
eagle."  The  last  appellation,  however,  is  sometimes  given  to 
the  great  wandering  albatross  (Diomedea  exulans). 

The  male  frigate-bird  is  jet  black  all  over  the  body ;  hav- 
ing a  red  bill,  very  long,  vertically  flattened,  and  with  the 
mandibles  abruptly  hooked  downwards  at  the  point.  The 
female  differs  in  color :  being  sooty  black  above,  and  having 
a  large  white  disc  on  the  abdomen. 

The  legs  are  short  in  proportion  to  the  bulk  of  the  bird ; 
the  toes,  as  already  stated,  being  furnished  with  talons, — • 
the  middle  one  scaly,  and  notched  underneath ;  while  the 
lega  are  feathered  to  the  feet,  showing  another  point  of  affin- 
ity with  predatory  birds  of  the  land.  Still  another  may  be 
pointed  out :  in  the  innermost  toe  or  pottex,  being  turned  out- 
wards, as  if  intended  for  perching,  —  which  the  frigate-bird 
actually  does  when  it  visits  the  shore,  often  making  its  nest 
upon  trees,  and  roosting  among  the  branches. 

In  fact,  this  creature  may  be  regarded  as  a  sort  of  con- 
necting link  between  the  birds  of  prey  who  make  their  horn* 


THE  FRIGATE-BIRD.  171 

en  the  dry  laud,  and  the  web-footed  birds  that  equally  lead  a 
predatory  life  upon  the  sea.  Perhaps  it  continues  the  chain 
begun  by  the  ospreys  and  sea-eagles,  who  take  most  of  their 
food  out  of  the  water,  but  do  not  stray  far  from  the  shore 
in  search  of  it. 

The  frigate-bird,  a  true  sea-hawk,  —  sea-eagle,  it  may  be 
called,  since  its  bold,  noble  qualities  entitle  it  to  the  name, 
—  makes  its  excursions  so  far  from  the  shore  that  it  is  not 
unfrequently  seen  in  the  very  middle  of  the  Atlantic.  Now, 
this  is  the  most  curious  circumstance  in  its  history,  and  one 
that  has  hitherto  perplexed  ornithologists.  Since  its  feet  are 
not  provided  with  the  "  web,"  it  cannot  swim  a  stroke ;  nor 
has  it  ever  been  seen  to  alight  on  the  water  for  the  purpose 
of  taking  rest.  It  is  not  likely  that  it  can  settle  on  the 
wave,  —  the  conformation  of  its  feet  and  body  making  this 
an  impossibility. 

How,  then,  does  it  find  rest  for  its  tired  wings?  This 
is  the  question  to  which  an  answer  is  not  easily  given. 

There  is  a  belief,  as  Ben  alleged,  that  it  returns  every 
night  to  roost  upon  the  land ;  but  when  it  is  considered  that 
to  reach  its  roost  would  often  require  a  flight  of  a  thousand 
miles,  —  to  say  nothing  of  the  return  journey  to  its  fishing- 
ground, —  the  statement  at  once  loses  all  vraisemblance. 
Many  sailors  say  that  it  goes  to  sleep  suspended  aloft  in  the 
air,  and  so  high  up  as  to  be  sometimes  invisible.  This 
was  the  belief  of  Snowball. 

Now,  this  belief,  or  conjecture,  or  whatever  you  may 
term  it,  on  the  part  of  Jack  tar,  though  sneered  at  as  impos- 
sible, and  even  scoffed  at  as  ridiculous,  may,  after  all,  not  be 
so  very  far  beyond  the  truth.  Jack  has  told  some  rare  tales 
in  his  time,  —  "  yarns  "  that  appear  to  be  "  spun  "  out  of 
his  fancy,  quite  as  much  as  this  one,  —  which,  after  har  ig 
run  the  gauntlet  of  philosophic  ridicule  on  the  part  of  closet 
naturalists,  have  in  the  long  run  turned  out  to  be  true  I 
Has  not  his  story  of  the  "King  of  the  Cannibal  Islands,"  — 


172  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

Hokee-pokee-winkee-wum,  with  his  fifty  wives  as  black  ai 
"  sut,"  and  all  his  belongings,  just  as  Jack  described  them, 
—  actually  "  turned  up  "  iu  reality,  in  the  person  of  ThaK- 
ombau  ard  a  long  line  of  similar  monsters  inhabiting  the 
Fiji  Islands  ? 

Why,  then,  may  not  his  statements,  about  the  frigate- bird 
going  to  sleep  upon  the  wing  be  a  correct  conjecture,  01 
observation,  instead  of  a  "  sailor's  yarn,"  —  as  sage  and  con- 
ceited, but  often  mistaken,  professors  of  "  physical  science  " 
would  have  us  regard  it?  Such  professors  as  are  at  this 
moment,  in  almost  every  newspaper  in  the  country,  —  sci- 
sntific  journals  among  the  number,  —  abusing  and  ridiculing 
the  poor  farmer  for  destroying  the  birds  that  destroy  his 
grain ;  and  telling  him,  if  he  were  to  let  the  birds  alone, 
they  would  eat  the  insects  that  commit  far  greater  devasta- 
tion on  his  precious  cerealia !  Conceited  theorists !  it  has 
never  occurred  to  them,  that  the  victims  of  the  farmer's 
fowling-piece  —  the  birds  that  eat  corn  —  would  not  touch  an 
insect  if  they  were  starving !  The  farmer  does  not  make 
war  on  the  insect-eating  birds.  Rarely,  or  never,  does  he 
expend  powder  and  shot  on  the  swallow,  the  wagtail,  the 
tomtit,  the  starling,  the  thrush,  the  blackbird,  the  wren,  the 
robin,  or  any  of  the  grub  and  fly-feeders.  His  "  game  "  are 
the  buntings  and  Fringillida,  —  the  larks,  linnets,  finches, 
barley -birds,  yellowhammers,  and  house  sparrows,  that  form 
the  great  flocks  afflicting  him  both  in  seed-time  and  harvest ; 
and  none  of  which  (excepting,  perhaps,  the  last-mentioned 
gentry,  who  are  at  times  slightly  inclined  towards  a  wormy 
diet)  would  touch  an  insect,  even  with  the  tips  of  their  bills. 
Ha !  ye  scribblers  of  closet  conceits !  you  have  been  sneer- 
ing at  "  Chaw-bacon "  long  enough.  He  may  turn  and 
scoff  at  you  ;  for,  in  very  truth,  the  boot  (of  ignorance)  is 
upon  the  other  leg ! 

Let  us  make  sure  then,  lest  Jack's  theory  regarding  th« 
•lumbers  of  the  sea-hawk  be  not  mythical  in  the  mirror  of 
our  own  incredulity. 


THE  FRIGATE-BIRD.  17$ 

That  tb.e  bird  can  take  rest  in  the  air  is  perfectly  certain. 
It  may  be  seen  —  as  the  crew  of  the  Catamaran  saw  it  —• 
suspended  on  outspread  wing,  without  any  perceptible  mo- 
tion except  in  its  tail ;  the  long,  forked  feathers  of  which 
could  be  observed  opening  and  closing  at  intervals ;  accord- 
ing to  the  sailor's  simile,  like  the  blades  of  a  pair  of  scissors. 
But  this  motion  might  be  merely  muscular,  and  compatible 
with  a  state  of  slumber  or  unconscious  repose.  At  all 
events,  the  bird  has  been  seen  to  keep  its  place  in  the  air 
for  many  minutes  at  a  time,  with  no  other  motion  observ- 
able than  that  of  the  long  and  gracefully-forking  feathers  of 
its  tail. 

A  fish  sleeps  suspended  in  the  water  without  any  appar- 
ent effort.  Why  not  certain  birds  in  the  air,  whose  body 
is  many  times  lighter  than  that  of  a  fish,  and  whose  skele- 
ton is  constructed  with  air  vessels  to  buoy  them  up  into  the 
azure  fields  of  the  sky  ?  The  sea-hawk  may  seldom  require 
what  is  ordinarily  termed  rest.  Its  smooth,  graceful  flight 
upon  wings,  which,  though  slender,  are  of  immense  length,  — 
often  of  ten  feet  spread,  —  shows  that  it  is,  perhaps,  as  much 
at  ease  in  the  air  as  if  perched  upon  the  bough  of  a  tree ; 
and  it  is  certain  that  its  claws  never  clasp  branch,  nor  do  its 
feet  find  rest  on  any  other  object,  for  weeks  and  months 
together. 

It  is  true  that  while  fishing  near  the  shore  it  usually 
retires  to  roost  at  night ;  but  afar  over  the  ocean  it  keeps 
all  night  upon  the  wing.  It  does  not,  like  many  other  ocean 
birds,  —  as  the  booby,  one  of  its  own  genus,  —  seek  rest 
upon  the  spars  of  ships,  though  it  often  hovers  above  the 
mastheads  of  sailing  vessels,  as  if  taking  delight  in  this 
situation,  and  not  unfrequently  seizes  in  its  beak,  and  tear- 
ing away  the  pieces  of  colored  cloth  fixed  upon  the  ume. 

A  curious  anecdote  is  told  of  a  frigate-bird  taken  while 
thus  occupied,  — its  captor  being  a  man  who  had  swarmed 
op  to  the  masthead  am*  seized  it  in  his  hand.  As  this  indi- 


174  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

vldual  chanced  to  be  a  landsman,  serving  temporally  on 
board  the  ship,  and  being  remarkably  tall  and  slender,  the 
crew  of  the  vessel  would  never  have  it  otherwise,  than  thai 
the  bird,  accustomed  only  to  the  figure  of  a  sailor,  had  mis- 
taken its  captor  for  a  spare  spar,  and  thus  fallen  a  victim 
to  its  want  of  discernment ! 

Strictly  speaking,  the  frigate-bird  does  not  jish,  like  other 
predatory  birds  of  the  ocean.  As  it  cannot  either  dive  or 
swim,  of  course  it  cannot  take  fish  out  of  the  water.  How, 
then,  does  it  exist  ?  Where  finds  it  the  food  necessary  to 
sustain  existence  ?  In  a  wor'd,  it  captures  its  prey  in  the 
air  ;  and  this  commonly  consists  in  (he  various  species  of  fly- 
ing-fish, and  also  the  loligo,  or  "  flying  squids."  When  these 
are  forced  out  of  their  own  proper  element  to  seek  safety  in 
the  air,  the  frigate-bird,  ready  to  pounce  down  from  aloft, 
clutches  them  before  they  can  get  back  into  the  equally  un- 
safe element  out  of  which  they  have  sprung. 

Besides  the  flying-fish,  it  preys  upon  those  that  have  the 
habit  of  leaping  above  the  surface,  and  also  others  that  have 
been  already  captured  by  boobies,  terns,  gulls,  and  tropic 
birds,  all  of  which  can  both  swim  and  dive. 

These  the  frigate-bird  remorselessly  robs  of  their  legiti- 
mate prize,  —  first  compelling  them  to  relinquish  it  in  the 
air,  and  then  adroitly  seizing  it  before  it  gets  back  to  the 
water. 

The  storm  is  the  season  of  plenty  to  this  singular  bird  of 
prey ;  as  then  it  can  capture  many  kinds  of  fish  upon  the 
surface  of  the  waves.  It  is  during  those  times  when  the  sea 
is  tranquil  or  perfectly  calm,  that  it  resorts  to  the  other 
method,  —  of  forcing  the  fishing-birds  to  yield  up  their  prey, 
often  even  to  disgorge,  after  having  swallowed  it ! 

Its  wondrous  powers  of  flight  not  only  enable  it  to  seise 
with  certainty  the  morsel  thus  rejected,  but  go  confident  is  it 
of  its  ability  in  the  performance  of  this  feat,  that,  if  a  fish 
chance  to  be  awkwardly  caught  in  its  beak,  it  will  fearlessly 


BETWEEN  TWO  TYRANTS.  175 

fling  it  into  the  air,  and,  darting  after,  grasp  it  again  and 
again,  until  it  gets  the  mouthful  in  a  convenient  position  foi 
being  gulped  down  its  own  greedy  throat. 


CHAPTER    XLIX. 

BETWEEN   TWO    TYRANTS. 

rriHE  two  birds  which  had  attracted  the  attention  of  the 

1  Catamaran's  crew  were  seen  suddenly  to  abandon  theii 
fixed  poise  in  the  air,  and  commence  wheeling  in  circles,  or 
rather  in  spiral  lines  that  gradually  descended  towards  the 
surface  of  the  sea. 

In  a  short  while  they  were  so  low  that  the  scarlet  pouch 
under  the  throat  of  the  male  was  easily  recognizable,  swollen 
out  like  a  goitre  ;  while  the  elegant  conformation  of  the 
birds,  with  their  long,  cimeter-shaped  wings,  and  slender 
forked  tails,  was  sharply  defined  against  the  blue  background 
of  the  sky. 

The  albacores  no  longer  took  any  notice  of  the  baited 
hooks  ;  but,  instead,  commenced  darting  through  the  water 
in  various  directions,  until  they  had  got  scattered  about  over 
the  sea. 

"Was  it  fear  of  the  predatory  birds  hovering  above  that 
was  producing  this  change  in  their  tactics  ? 

It  could  not  be  that.  They  did  not  appear  to  be  acting 
under  any  alarm ;  but  rather  as  if  prowling  in  search  of 
something  not  yet  visible  either  to  them  or  to  those  who 
were  watching  them  from  the  deck  of  the  Catamaran. 

Ben  Brace  and  Snowball  knew  the  fish  were  not  fright- 
ened by  the  presence  of  the  birds;  but  William,  whose 
experience  of  sea-life  was  more  limited,  —  although  the 


176  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

albacores  did  not  look  alarmed,  —  thought,  doubtingly,  th» 
they  were  so. 

"Surely,"  said  he,  appealing  to  his  older  companions, 
"  such  big  fish  need  n't  be  scared  of  them  ?  " 

As  he  put  the  interrogatory,  he  pointed  upward  to  the 
two  birds,  now  within  a  hundred  fathoms  of  the  surface. 
"Surely  they  can't  kill  an  albacore?  If  they  did,  they 
could  never  swallow  it,  I  should  think  ?  " 

u  'T  ain't  the  albacore  they  be  after,"  replied  Ben  Brace, 
"nor  be  the  albacore  afeerd  o'  them,  —  not  a  bit.  There 
be  another  sort  o'  fishes  not  far  away,  though  we  can't  see 
'em.  No  more  do  these  sky-blue  chaps  as  be  swimming 
around  us.  They  be  now  lookin'  for  'em,  —  mighty  sharp, 
as  ye  see ;  an'  they  '11  be  sartin  to  scare  'em  up  in  three 
shakes  o'  a  shark's  tail." 

"  What  other  sort  of  fish?"  inquired  William. 

"  Flyin'-fish,  lad ;  same 's  you  an'  I  made  our  first  meal 
on,  when  we  wur  we'lnigh  starvin'.  There  's  a  school  not 
far  off.  The  frigates  has  spied  'em  from  aloft,  an'  that  'a 
what 's  brought  them  'loverin'  over.  They  've  seed  the 
albacores  too ;  and  as  th  ly  know  that  these  preys  on  the 
flyin'-fish,  they  've  come  lown  to  be  nearer  thar  game. 
Unless  the  albacores  get  thar  eyes  on  the  winged  fish,  and 
run  down  among  'em,  there  '11  be  no  chance  for  the  frigates. 
They  can  do  nothin'  till  t'  other  jumps  'em  out  o'  the  water. 
The  sky-blues  don't  seem  to  see  'em  yet ;  but  I  dare  say  it  '11 
not  be  long  afore  they  do,  judgin'  by  their  manoeuvres. 
Thar !  Did  n't  I  tell  thee,  lad  ?  See  yonder !  They  be  off 
after  something." 

As  the  sailor  spoke,  several  of  the  albacores  were  seen 
suddenly  heading  in  a  direction  parallel  to  the  course  of  the 
Catamaran,  and  passing  rapidly  through  the  transparent 
water. 

In  an  instant  after,  several  white  objects  were  seen  spring- 
ing up  before  them,  which,  after  glancing  for  a  moment  i* 
the  air,  plunged  back  again  into  the  water. 


BETWEEN  TWO  TYRANTS.  177 

Not  any  of  the  Catamaran's  crew  were  ignorant  of  the 
character  of  these  objects.  The  silvery  sheen  of  translucent 
wings,  as  they  glittered  under  the  bright  sunbeams,  pro- 
claimed the  creatures  to  be  a  "  flock  "  of  flying  fish,  of  which 
the  albacores  —  of  all  their  many  enemies  the  most  danger- 
ous —  were  now  in  pursuit. 

There  may  have  been  several  of  the  flying- fish  that  did 
not  rise  into  the  air,  but  fell  a  prey  to  their  pursuers  under 
the  wate*- ;  and  of  those  that  did  succeed  in  springing  above 
the  surface  there  were  two  that  never  came  down  again,  — 
at  least  not  in  the  shape  of  flying-fish. 

The  sea-hawks,  wheeling  above  both  pursuers  and  pursued, 
had  been  watching  their  opportunity ;  and  as  the  pretty  crea- 
tures made  their  appearance  above  water,  both  the  birds 
swooped  straight  down  among  the  prinkling  cohort,  each 
selecting  a  victim.  Both  made  a  successful  swoop  ;  for 
they  were  observed  to  turn  and  fly  with  a  slant  upwards, 
each  with  a  flying-fish  in  its  beak. 

One  of  them,  the  male  bird,  did  n't  appear  to  be  satisfied 
with  the  hold  he  had  taken ;  for,  with  a  sudden  jerk  of  his 
head,  he  let  go  again,  pitched  the  prey  several  feet  upward, 
and  again  as  it  came  down  took  a  fresh  "  grip  "  upon  it. 

No  doubt  this  was  to  his  satisfaction,  for  almost  in  the 
same  instant  that  the  flying-fish  returned  within  the  mandi- 
bles of  his  beak  it  disappeared,  wings  and  all,  down  that 
dark  passage,  where,  no  doubt,  many  another  of  its  kind  had 
preceded  it. 

It  was  evident  that  neither  of  the  birds  considered  one 
flying-fish  sufficient  for  a  meal;  for  as  soon  as  they  had 
swallowed  those  already  taken,  they  again  placed  themselves 
in  position  for  shooting  down  upon  a  second  victim. 

And  now  the  crew  of  the  Catamaran  had  the  fortune  to 
witness  one  of  those  singular  incidents  that  may  sometimes 
be  seen  upon  the  ocean,  —  a  little  drama  of  Nature,  in  which 
three  of  her  creatures,  —  -  all  three  differing  in  kind,  —  formed 
the  dramatis  persona. 


178  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

The  cock  frigate-bird,  on  turning  to  look  for  a  fresh  victim, 
espied  one,  or  that  which  was  likely  to  become  one,  almost 
directly  beneath  him. 

It  was  a  single  flying-fish,  which  by  some  cnance,  —  per- 
haps from  not  being  either  so  fast  a  swimmer  or  so  swift 
upon  the  wing  as  its  fellows,  —  had  lagged  behind  the 
"  school." 

It  was  no  longer  playing  laggard,  and  for  a  very  good 
reason :  since  an  albacore,  nearly  full  three  feet  in  length, 
was  swimming  after  it  and  doing  his  very  best  to  overtake  it 
Both  were  exerting  every  bit  of  muscular  strength  that  lay 
in  their  fins,  —  the  former  to  make  its  escape,  the  latter  to 
prevent  this  consummation. 

It  was  evident,  however,  to  those  on  board  the  Catamaran^ 
that  the  pursuer  was  gaining  upon  the  pursued ;  and  this  at 
length  became  also  evident  to  the  flying-fish.  The  tiny 
creature,  as  it  cut  through  the  clear  water,  could  be  seen 
quivering  with  fear ;  and  the  spectators  looked  to  see  it  shoo* 
upward  into  the  air,  and  thus  disappoint  the  greedy  tyrant 
at  its  tail. 

No  doubt  this  would  have  been  the  very  course  of  conduct 
for  the  flying-fish  to  have  pursued ;  and  no  doubt  it  was  on 
the  eve  of  adopting  it,  when,  all  at  once,  the  long,  shadowy 
wings  and  outstretched  neck  of  the  frigate-bird  were  seen 
outlined  above. 

The  sight  was  sufficient  to  keep  the  fish  under  water 
awhile  longer,  but  only  a  very  little  while.  Above  were 
lhat  ugly  red  pouch  and  craning  neck ;  below,  those  hideous 
jaws,  ready  to  open  and  engulf  it. 

There  seemed  no  chance  of  escape.  It  was  only  a  question 
of  choice  as  to  the  mode  of  death :  whether  it  would  prefer 
to  become  food  for  a  fish,  or  be  devoured  by  a  bird. 

As,  in  itself,  it  -partook  a  little  of  the  nature  of,  or,  at  alj 
ev.ents,  of  the  habits  of  both,  there  was  not  much  to  choosa 
between  them ;  but  whether  it  did  not  desire  to  deliver  ite€lf 


SNOWBALL  MAKING  A  SOMERSAULT.  179 

over  to  the  enemy  most  like  to  itself,  or  whether  it  was  that 
the  latter  was  now  so  near  as  to  be  almost  certain  of  seizing 
it,  it  declared  its  preference  for  the  bird  by  making  a  sudden 
spring  which  carried  it  clear  out  of  the  water,  and  into 
the  air. 

The  sea-hawk  hovering  above  in  eager  expectation  lost 
PO  time  in  making  the  attempt  to  secure  it ;  but  whether  he 
was  too  sure  of  his  prize,  or  from  some  other  unexplained 
reason,  certain  it  is  that  he  gave  a  practical  illustration  of  the 
old  and  well-known  adage  about  the  cup  and  the  lip,  by  fail- 
ing to  clutch  the  prey. 

He  was  seen  darting  towards  it  with  open  beak,  —  his 
talons  cruelly  extended  for  its  capture ;  but,  notwithstanding 
all  his  activity,  the  white  object  that  shot  glittering  past  him, 
and  dropped  into  the  sea  far  beyond,  proclaimed  to  the  Cata 
marans  that  the  Exocetus  had  escaped. 


CHAPTER    L. 

SNOWBALL    MAKING   A    SOMERSAULT. 

AND  now  all  eyes  were  turned  towards  the  sea-hawk, 
and  became  fixed  upon  him  with  glances  that  expressed 
surprise  ;  for,  instead  of  again  soaring  upward,  and  renewing 
his  pursuit  either  of  the  creature  that  he  had  so  clumsily 
permitted  to  escape  him,  or  some  other  of  its  kind,  the  bird 
was  sesn  to  stay  down  upon  the  surface  of  the  sea,  —  his 
wings  spread  to  their  full  extent,  and  flapping  the  water  with 
such  violence  as  to  raise  the  spray  in  a  thick  cloud  over  and 
around  him! 

He  was  heard,  too,  giving  utterance  to  loud  and  repeated 
•creams,  —  not  in  the  tone  of  a  conqueror  j  but  as  if  he  wai 


180  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

in  danger  of  being  vanquished,  or  had  already  become  the 
victim  of  some  ocean  tyrant  stronger  than  himself  I 

For  some  seconds  this  inexplicable  movement, — a  struggle 
it  seemed,  —  continued ;  not  in  one  place,  but  over  a  space 
of  many  square  yards  of  surface,  —  which  appeared  to  be 
also  agitated  by  the  exertions  of  some  creature  underneath ; 
the  bird  all  the  while  repeating  its  cries,  and  beating  the 
water  into  froth,  like  a  huge  pelican  at  play ! 

The  crew  of  the  Catamaran,  utterly  unable  to  account  for 
this  strange  conduct  on  the  part  of  the  old  cock,  stood  upon 
the  deck  of  their  craft,  looking  on  with  feelings  of  intense 
astonishment. 

Even  Snowball,  who  thought  himself  au  fait  to  every 
incident  of  ocean-life,  was  surprised  and  puzzled  equally  with 
the  rest. 

"  What  be  the  matter  wi'  the  creetur,  Snowy  ?  "  inquired 
Ben,  thinking  Snowball  could  explain  its  odd  behavior. 
"  The  frigate  'pears  to  ha'  got  on  its  beam-end ;  shiver  my 
timbers  if  't  ain't  goin'  to  founder  ! " 

"  Shibber  ma  timber,  too,"  rejoined  Snowball,  rudely 
pirating  the  sailor's  favorite  shibboleth ;  "  shibber  'um,  if  dis 
nigga  know  what  am  de  matter.  Golly !  someting  got  de 
ole  hawk  by  de  legs,  —  dat  seem  sartin.  Maybe  'um  be 
shark,  maybe  'um  be  long-nose  —  de  —  " 

Snowball  was  going  to  say  "  sword-fish,"  had  he  been  per- 
mitted to  finish  his  speech.  But  he  was  not ;  for  while  in 
the  act  of  its  delivery,  with  the  whites  of  his  eyes  rolling  in 
conjectural  wonder,  something  from  below  struck  the  plank 
upon  which  he  was  standing,  and  with  such  a  shock  that  the 
piece  of  timber  was  started  from  its  fastenings,  and  impelled 
suddenly  upwards,  —  not  only  knocking  the  ex-sea-cook  out 
of  his  perpendicular  position,  but  pitching  him,  as  from  a 
catapult,  clear  across  the  Catamaran,  and  into  the  sea  on  the 
opposite  side! 

This  was  not  all.    The  plank  from  which  Snowlall  had 


SNOWBALL  MAKING  A  SOMERSAULT.  181 

been  projected  instantly  fell  back  into  its  place,  —  in  con- 
sequence of  its  being  one  of  the  heaviest  pieces  of  timber 
in  the  raft,  —  but  instead  of  remaining  there,  it  was  again 
seen  to  shoot  upward,  then  fall  back  upon  the  water,  as  if 
dragged  down  by  a  powerful  but  invisible  hand,  —  the 
hand  of  some  sea-god  or  demon,  —  perhaps  of  Neptune 
himself ! 

Not  only  the  plank,  but  the  whole  raft  moved  under  this 
inexplicable  impulsion,  —  which  had  communicated  to  it  a 
rocking  motion,  not  from  side  to  side,  but  upwards  and  down- 
wards !  So  quick  and  violent  was  this  mysterious  oscilla- 
tion, that  it  was  with  difficulty  the  three  individuals  who  still 
occupied  the  decks  of  the  craft  could  keep  either  their  bal- 
ance or  their  feet. 

Along  with  the  motion  of  the  raft  there  was  a  correspond- 
ing commotion  in  the  water,  —  accompanied  by  a  loud 
splashing  noise  that  seemed  to  proceed  from  under  the  tim- 
bers, on  which,  like  so  many  acrobats,  they  were  endeavoring 
to  balance  themselves ;  and  in  a  few  seconds  after  they  had 
felt  the  great  shock,  the  sea  all  around  exhibited  a  surface 
of  high  waves  crested  with  foam  ! 

Snowball,  who  had  risen  to  the  surface  after  the  somer- 
sault that  had  plunged  him  deep  down  into  the  sea,  perceiv- 
ing that  the  raft  still  continued  to  heave  upward  and  down- 
ward, made  no  attempt  to  get  on  board ;  but  swimming 
alongside,  sputtered  forth  his  terrified  ejaculations.  Even 
the  brave  man-o'-war's-man,  who  had  faced  death  in  a  thou- 
sand shapes,  was,  at  that  moment,  the  victim  of  fear. 

How  could  it  be  otherwise  ?     He  could  think  of  nothing 
in  nature  capable  of  causing  that  mysterious  commotion 
and  who,  without  trembling,  could  withstand  the  assaults  of 
the  supernatural  ? 

u  Shiver  my  timbers  ! "  cried  Ben,  himself  shivering  as  ha 
epoke  the  words,  "  what  in  old  Nick's  name  has  got  under 
us  ?  Be  it  a  whale  that 's  bumpin*  its  back  against  the  raft  ? 


182  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

Before  he  could  pronounce  the  second  interrogatory,  a 
loud  crash  sounded  in  the  ears  of  all,  —  as  if  the  plank 
heaving  so  mysteriously  had  been  suddenly  torn  in  twain ! 

This  sound,  whatever  had  caused  it,  seemed  to  proclaim 
the  climax  of  the  commotion  :  for  immediately  after  the 
Catamaran  began  to  compose  herself,  the  waves  caused  by 
her  continued  rocking  gradually  grew  less,  until  at  length, 
once  more  "  righted,"  she  lay  in  her  customary  position  upon 
the  tranquil  surface  of  the  sea. 


CHAPTER    LI. 

A  THRUST  THROUGH  AND  THROUGH. 

AS  soon  as  the  Catamaran  had  fairly  recovered  her 
equilibrium,  Snowball  condescended  to  climb  aboard. 
The  ludicrous  appearance  of  the  negro,  as  he  stood  dripping 
upon  the  deck,  might  have  excited  laughter ;  but  neither 
Ben  Brace,  nor  his  acolyte,  nor  the  little  Lalee,  were  in  a 
mood  for  mirth.  On  the  contrary,  the  curious  incident  that 
had  just  occurred  was  yet  unexplained ;  and  the  awe  with 
which  it  had  inspired  them  still  continued  to  hold  all  three 
in  a  sort  of  speechless  control.  Snowball  himself  was  the 
first  to  break  silence. 

"  Good  Gorramity !  '  he  exclaimed,  his  teeth  chatter- 
ing like  castanets,  as  the  words  passed  between  them. 
"  "Wha's  all  de  rumpus  'bout  ?  Wha  you  tink,  Massa  Ben  ? 
Wha  make  dat  dratted  fuss  under  de  raff?  De  water  be 
plash  *bout  so  I  've  see  nuffin,  'cepting  a  big  black  heap  o* 
someting.  Golly  !  I  b'lieve  it  war  dejumbe,  —  de  debbil  I " 

The  terrified  looks  of  the  speaker,  while  giving  utterance 
to  these  words,  —  especially  when  pronouncing  the  dreaded 


A  THRUST  THROUGH  AND  THROUGH.      18i1 

name  of  the  jumbe,  —  told  that  he  was  serious  in  what  he 
said ;  and  that  he  actually  believed  the  devil  to  have  been 
the  agent  who  had  been  causing  the  mysterious  commo- 
tion ! 

The  English  sailor,  though  not  entirely  free  from  a  cer- 
tain tinge  of  superstition,  did  not  share  Snowball's  belief. 
Though  unable,  by  any  experience  he  had  ever  gone  through, 
tc  account  for  the  odd  incident,  still  he  could  not  ascribe  it 
to  supernatural  agency.  The  blow  which  started  the  plank 
on  which  Snowball  had  been  standing  had  communicated  a 
shock  to  the  whole  structure.  It  might  have  been  given  by 
some  huge  fish,  or  other  monster  of  the  deep ;  and  though 
unaccountable  and  unexpected,  might,  nevertheless,  be  quite 
natural.  It  was  the  shaking  which  the  Catamaran  kept  up 
afterwards,  —  almost  to  the  spilling  of  the  whole  crew  into 
the  water,  —  that  most  perplexed  the  old  man-o'-war's-man. 
He  could  not  imagine  why  a  fish,  or  any  other  creature,  hav- 
ing butted  its  head  once  against  the  "  keel "  of  the  craft, 
would  not  instantly  desist  from  such  an  idle  encounter,  and 
make  off  as  fast  as  fins  could  carry  it. 

Ben's  first  impression  was,  that  a  whale  had  by  chance 
risen  under  the  raft ;  as  he  had  known  them  to  do  against 
the  sides  of  ships.  But  then  the  persistence  of  the  creature, 
whatever  it  was,  in  its  odd  attack,  argued  something  more 
than  accident.  On  the  other  hand,  if  the  attack  was  de- 
signed, and  had  been  made  by  a  whale,  of  whatever  species, 
the  sailor  knew  that  it  would  not  have  left  off  after  merely 
shaking  the  raft.  A  whale,  with  a  single  flirt  of  his  tail, 
would  have  sent  the  whole  structure  flying  into  the  air,  sunk 
it  down  into  the  deep,  or  scattered  it  in  fifty  fragments  over 
the  surface  of  the  water. 

One  of  these  things  a  whale  would  undoubtedly  have 
done.  So  believed  Ben  Brace ;  and  therefore  the  creature 
that  had  come  so  near  capsizing  them  could  not  be  a  whale. 

What  was  it,  then  ?     A  shark  ?     No.     It  could  not  h« 


184  THE   OCEAN  WAIFS 

a  shark.  Though  there  are  two  or  thrte  species  of  these 
monsters,  quite  as  large  as  good-sized  whales,  tie  sailo? 
never  knew  of  their  assaulting  anything  after  that  fashion. 

As  they  stood  speculating  on  the  cause  of  their  curious 
adventure,  a  shout  from  Snowball  announced  that  the  ex- 
cook  had  at  length  discovered  the  explanation. 

Snowball's  first  thought,  after  having  partially  recovered 
from  his  fright,  was  to  examine  the  plank  from  which,  like 
an  acrobat  from  his  spring-board,  he  had  made  that  involun- 
tary somersault. 

There,  just  by  the  spot  on  which  he  had  been  standing, 
appeared  an  object  that  explained  everything :  a  sharp, 
bony,  proboscis-like  implement,  standing  up  a  full  foot's 
length  out  of  the  timber,  slightly  obliqued  from  the  perpen- 
dicular, and  as  firmly  imbedded  in  the  wood  as  if  it  had 
been  driven  in  by  the  blows  of  a  blacksmith's  hammer! 
That  it  had  penetrated  the  plank  from  underneath  could  be 
easily  seen,  by  the  ragged  edge,  and  split  pieces  around  the 
orifice  where  it  came  out. 

But  the  negro  did  not  stay  to  draw  deductions  of  this 
nature.  On  catching  sight  of  the  object,  —  which  he  knew 
had  not  been  there  before,  —  his  terror  at  once  came  to  an 
end ;  and  a  long  cachinnation,  intended  for  a  peal  of  laugh- 
ter, announced  that  "  Snowball  was  himself  again." 

"  Golly  ! "  he  exclaimed.'"  Look  dar,  Massa  Brace.  Look 
at  de  ting  dat  hab  gub  us  sich  a  frightnin.  Whuch  !  Who'd 
a  beliebed  dat  de  long-nose  had  got  so  much  'trength  in  im 
ugly  body  ?  Whuch  ! " 

-  A  sword-fish ! "  cried  Ben.  The  rostrum  of  one  ol 
these  singular  creatures  was  the  sharp  bone  protruding 
above  the  plank.  "  You  're ,  right,  Snowy,  it  be  a  sword- 
fish,  and  nothing  else." 

"  Only  de  snout  o'  one,"  jocularly  rejoined  the  negro. 
"  De  karkiss  ob  de  anymal  an't  dar  any  more.  Dat  was 
de  black  body  I  seed  under  de  raff;  but  he  an't  dar  now 


AN  AWKWARD   GRIP.  185 

He  hab  broke  off  him  long  perbossus ;  and  no  doubt  dat  hab 
killed  him.  He  gone  dead,  and  to  de  bottom,  boaf  at  de 
same  time." 

"  Yes,"  assented  the  sailor.  "  It  must  have  broke  off 
while  he  was  struggling  to  get  clear.  I  heerd  the  crash  o't, 
like  the  partin  o'  a  spar ;  and  just  after,  the  raft  stopped 
ghakin',  an'  began  to  settle  down  again.  Lor  ha  mercy  on 
os !  what  a  thrust  he  have  made !  That  plank  be  five  inchei 
thick,  at  the  very  least,  an'  you  see  he 's  stuck  his  snout 
through  it  more  *n  a  foot !  Lor  'a  mercy  on  .us  !  What 
wonderful  queery  creeturs  the  ocean  do  contain!" 

And  with  this  philosophic  reflection,  from  the  lips  of  the 
man-o'-war's-man,  ended  the  adventure. 


CHAPTER    LII. 

AN  AWKWARD    GRIP. 

TO  the  two  oldest  of  the  Catamaran's  crew  the  curious 
circumstances  of  the  sword-fish  thrusting  his  rostrum 
through  the  raft,  and  snapping  it  asunder,  needed  no  expla- 
nation. Both  knew  that  it  was  not  with  an  intention  of 
attacking  the  Catamaran  that  the  "  stab  "  had  been  given ; 
nor  was  the  act  a  voluntary  one,  in  any  way. 

Not  likely,  indeed ;  since  it  had  proved  fatal  to  the  swords- 
man himself.  No  one  doubted  his  having  gone  dead  to  the 
bottom  of  the  sea :  for  the  bony  "  blade  "  was  found  to  have 
been  broken  close  to  the  "  hilt,"  and  it  was  not  possible  tht, 
owner  could  exist  without  this  important  weapon.  Even 
supposing  that  the  fearful  "  fracture "  had  not  killed  him 
outright,  the  loss  of  his  long  rapier,  the  only  tool  by  which 
h?  could  obtain  his  living,  would  be  sure  to  shorten  his  leass 
»f  life,  and  the  final  moment  could  not  be  long  delayed. 


186  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS 

But  neither  sailor  nor  ex-sea-cook  had  any  doubt  of  tha 
fish  having  committed  suicide,  no  more  than  that  the  act  waa 
involuntary. 

The  explanation  given  by  Ben  Brace  to  his  protege  waa 
simple,  as  it  was  also  rational.  The  sword-fish  had  been 
charging  into  a  shoal  of  albacores.  Partly  blinded  by  the 
velocity  of  its  impetuous  rush,  and  partly  by  its  instinct  of 
extreme  voracity,  —  perhaps  amounting  to  a  passion,  it  had 
seen  nothing  of  the  raft  until  its  long  weapon  struck  the 
plank,  piercing  the  latter  through  and  through.  Unable  to 
withdraw  its  rostrum  from  the  fibrous  wood,  the  fish  had 
instantly  inaugurated  that  series  of  struggles,  and  continued 
them,  until  the  crash  came,  caused,  no  doubt,  by  the  up- 
heaved raft  lurching  suddenly  down  in  a  direction  transverse 
to  its  snout. 

Only  a  part  of  this  explanatory  information  was  extended 
to  little  William :  for  only  a  part  was  required.  From  some 
previous  talk  that  had  occurred  on  the  same  subject,  he  was 
already  acquainted  wiih  a  few  of  the  facts  relating  to  this 
foolish  fencing  on  the  part  of  the  sword-fish. 

Nor  was  there  at  that  moment  any  explanation  either 
offered  or  asked ;  for,  as  soon  as  the  Catamaran  had  settled 
into  her  proper  position,  and  Snowball  had  got  aboard,  the 
eyes  of  her  whole  crew,  —  those  of  the  Coromantee  among 
the  rest,  —  became  once  more  directed  to  that  which  had 
occupied  their  attention  previous  to  receiving  the  shock,  — 
the  strange  behavior  of  the  frigate-bird. 

This  creature  was  still  down  on  the  surface  of  the  water, 
darling  from  point  to  point,  fluttering  and  flopping,  and 
Ihrowing  up  the  little  clouds  of  spray,  that,  surrounding  it 
like  a  nimbus,  seemed  to  follow  it  wherever  it  went ! 

Though  Ben  Brace  and  Snowball  had  been  able  to  explain 
iho  action  of  the  fish,  they  were  both  at  fault  about  the  be- 
liuvior  of  the  bird.  In  all  their  sea  experience  neither  had 
ever  witnessed  the  like  conduct  before,  —  either  on  the  parl 
of  a  frigate-bird,  or  any  other  bird  of  the  ocean. 


AN  AWKWARD   GRIP.  187 

Fof  a  long  time  they  stood  watching  the  creature,  and  ex- 
ehanging  conjectures  as  to  the  cause  of  its  singular  action. 
It  was  clear  this  was  not  voluntary ;  for  its  movements  par- 
took of  the  nature  of  a  struggle.  Besides,  its  screams,  —  tc 
which  it  gavb  an  almost  continuous  utterance,  —  betokened 
either  terror  or  pain,  or  both. 

But  why  did  it  keep  to  the  surface  of  the  sea,  when  it  waa 
well  known  to  be  a  bird  that  could  rise  almost  vertically  into 
the  air,  and  to  the  highest  point  that  winged  creatures  might 
ascend  ? 

This  was  the  query  to  which  neither  sailor  nor  sea-cook 
could  give  a  reply,  either  with  positive  truth  or  probable 
conjecture. 

For  full  ten  minutes  it  remained  unanswered ;  that  is,  ten 
minutes  after  the  sword-fish  adventure  had  ended,  and  twenty 
from  the  time  the  frigate-bird  had  been  seen  io  swoop  at  the 
flying-fish.  Then,  however,  the  problem  received  its  solu- 
tion ;  and  the  play  of  the  Pelicanus  aquila  was  at  length 
explained. 

It  was  no  play  on  the  part  of  the  unfortunate  bird,  but  a 
case  of  involuntary  and  fearful  captivity. 

The  bird  had  begun  to  show  symptoms  of  exhaustion  , 
and  as  its  strength  became  enfeebled,  its  wings  flopped  more 
gently  against  the  water,  the  spray  no  longer  rose  around  it, 
and  the  sea  underneath  was  less  agitated. 

The  spectators  could  now  see  that  it  was  not  alone.  Be- 
neath, and  apparently  clutching  it  by  the  leg,  was  a  fi*h 
whose  shape,  size,  and  sheen  of  azure  hue  proclaimed  it  an 
albacore,  —  no  doubt,  the  one  that  simultaneously  with  the 
bird  itself  had  been  balked  in  the  pursuit  of  the  flying-fish. 

So  far  the  detention  of  the  frigate-bird  upon  the  surface 
of  the  sea  was  explained ;  but  not  sufficiently.  There  was 
still  cause  for  conjecture.  The  albacore  seemed  equally  tired 
of  the  connection,  —  equally  exhausted ;  and  as  it  swam 
slowly  about,  —  no  longer  darting  swiftly  from  point  to  point, 


188  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

as  at  the  beginning  of  the  strife,  —  the  spectators  could  now 
see  that  the  foot  of  the  sea-hawk,  instead  of  being  held 
between  the  jaws  of  the  fish,  —  as  at  first  they  had  supposed 
it  to  be,  —  appeared  to  be  resting  on  the  back  of  its  head, 
as  if  the  bird  had  perched  there,  and  was  balancing  itself  on 
one  leg! 

Mystery  of  mysteries !     What  could  it  all  mean  ? 

The  struggles  of  both  bird  and  fish  seemed  coming  tic  a 
termination:  as  they  were  now  only  continued  intermit- 
tently. After  each  interval,  the  wings  of  the  former  and 
the  fins  of  the  latter  moved  with  feebler  stroke ;  until  at 
length  both  wings  and  fins  lay  motionless,  —  the  former  ont 
the  latter  in,  the  water. 

But  that  the  bird's  wings  were  extended,  it  would,  no 
doubt,  have  sunk  under  the  surface ;  and  the  fish  was  still 
making  feeble  endeavors  to  draw  it  down ;  but  the  spruad 
pinions,  extending  over  nearly  ten  feet  of  surface,  frustrated 
the  design. 

It  so  chanced  that  the  curious  spectacle  had  occurred 
directly  ahead  of  the  Catamaran,  and  the  craft,  making  way 
down  the  wind,  kept  gradually  approaching  the  scene  of  the 
strife. 

Every  moment  the  respective  positions  of  the  two  parties 
revealed  themselves  more  clearly ;  but  it  was  not  until  the 
raft  swept  within  reach,  and  the  exhausted  adversaries  were 
both  taken  up,  that  the  connection  between  them  became 
thoroughly  understood. 

Then  it  was  discovered  that  the  contest  which  had  oc- 
curred between  them  was  on  both  sides  an  involuntary 
affair,  —  had  not  been  sought  by  either ;  but  was  the  result 
of  sheer  accident. 

How  could  it  be  otherwise:  since  the  albacore  is  too 
strong  for  the  beak  of  the  frigate-bird,  —  too  big  for  efen 
its  capacious  throat  to  swallow ;  while,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  frigate-bird  never  ventures  to  intrude  itself  on  the  crui* 
ing-ground  of  this  pOAverful  fish  ? 


AN  AWKWARD  GRIP.  181 

The  accident  which  had  conducted  to  this  encountnr,  lead- 
ing to  a  fatal  entanglement,  had  been  caused  by  a  ci  eutur*. 
which  is  the  common  prey  of  both,  —  the  little  flying-fish, 
that  for  once  had  escaped  from  his  enemies  of  both  elements, 
—  the  air  and  the  water. 

In  dashing  down  upon  the  flying-fish,  the  curving  talons 
of  the  bird,  missing  the  object  for  which  they  had  been 
braced,  entered  the  eye  of  the  albacore.  Partly  because 
they  fitted  exactly  into  the  socket,  and  partly  becoming 
imbedded  among  the  fibrous  sutures  of  the  skull,  they  re- 
mained fixed ;  so  that  neither  bird  nor  fish  —  equally  desirous 
of  undoing  the  irksome  yoke  —  was  able  to  put  an  end  to 
the  partnership ! 

Snowball  gave  them  a  divorce,  as  effectual  as  could  have 
been  obtained  in  the  court,  ever  to  be  noted  as  that  of  Sir 
Cresswell  Cresswell. 

The  process  was  brief,  —  the  execution  following  quick 
upon  the  judgment ;  though  the  sentences  pronounced  upon 
the  criminals  were  not  exactly  the  same. 

The  fish  was  knocked  on  the  head ;  while  a  different, 
though  equally  expeditious,  mode  of  punishment  was  exe- 
cuted upon  the  bird.  Its  head  was  twisted  from  its  body ! 

Thus,  somewhat  after  the  fashion  of  Kilkenny  cats,  per- 
ished two  tyrants  of  the  sea.  Let  us  hope  that  the  tyrants 
of  the  land  may  all  receive  an  analogous  compensation  f<w 
their  crimes ! 


190  THE  9CEAN  WAIFS. 

CHAPTER    LIIT 

GLOOMY   PROSPECTS. 

THE  reappearance  of  the  sword-fish,  —  if  it  was  the  same 
that  had  already  paid  them  a  visit,  —  or  more  likely  the 
discovery  and  pursuit  of  the  "  school "  of  flying-fish,  —  had 
caused  the  albacores  to  decamp  from  the  neighborhood  of  the 
Catamaran  ;  so  that  with  the  exception  of  that  taken  from 
the  talons  of  the  frigate-bird,  not  one  was  any  longer  to  be 
seen. 

Once  recovered  from  the  excitement,  caused  by  the  singu- 
lar accident  that  happened  to  the  Catamaran,  —  as  well  as 
the  other  incident  almost  as  singular,  —  her  crew  made  an 
inspection  of  their  craft,  to  see  if  any  damage  had  accrued 
from  the  shock. 

Fortunately  there  was  none.  The  piercing  of  the  plank, 
in  which  the  bony  rostrum  remained  firmly  imbedded,  was 
of  no  consequence  whatever ;  and,  although  several  feet  of 
the  "  sword,"  —  the  whole  of  the  blade,  in  fact,  excepting 
that  which  protruded  above,  —  could  be  perceived  jutting 
out  underneath,  they  made  no  attempt  to  "  extract "  it :  since 
it  could  not  greatly  interfere  with  the  sailing  qualities  of  the 
Catamaran. 

The  plank  itself  had  been  started  slightly  out  of  place 
and  one  or  two  other  timbers  loosened.     But  in  such  able 
bands  as  those  of  Snowball  and  the  sailor,  these  trifling  dam- 
ages were  soon  made  good  again. 

The  two  baited  hooks  were  once  more  dropped  into  the 
water,  but  the  sun  went  down  over  the  ocean  without  either 
of  them  receiving  a  nibble.  No  albacore,  —  no  fish  what- 
ever, —  no  bird,  —  no  living  creature  of  any  kind,  —  was  in 
sight  at  the  setting  of  that  sun  ;  which,  slowly  descending,  as 
it  were,  into  the  silent  depths  of  the  ocean,  left  them  in  the 
purple  gleam  of  the  twilight. 


GLOOMY  PROSPECTS.  191 

Notwithstanding  the  interesting  events  which  had  trans* 
pired,  —  enough  to  secure  them  against  a  single  moment  of 
ennui,  —  they  were  far  from  being  cheerful  in  that  twilight 
hour.  The  stirring  incidents  of  the  day  had  kept  them  from 
thinking  of  their  real  situation ;  but  when  all  was  once  more 
tranquil,  —  even  to  the  ocean  around  them,  —  their  thoughts 
naturally  reverted  to  their  very  narrow  chances  of  ultimately 
escaping  from  that  wide,  wild  waste,  stretching,  as  it  seemed, 
to  the  ends  of  the  world  ! 

With  wistful  glances  they  had  watched  the  sun  sinking 
over  the  sea.  The  point  where  the  golden  luminary  disap- 
peared from  their  sight  was  due  westward,  —  the  direction 
in  which  they  desired  to  go.  Could  they  have  only  been  at 
that  moment  where  his  glorious  orb  was  shining  down  from 
the  vertex,  they  would  have  been  upon  dry  land ;  and,  0 
what  a  thrilling  thought  is  that  of  firm  stable  earth,  to  the 
wretched  castaway  clinging  upon  his  frail  raft  in  the  middle 
of  the  endless  ocean ! 

They  were  discouraged  by  the  dead  calm  that  reigned 
around  them  ;  for  every  breath  of  the  breeze  had  died  away 
before  sunset.  The  surface  of  the  sea  was  tranquil  even  to 
glassiness  ;  and  as  the  twilight  deepened,  it  began  to  mirror 
the  millions  of  twinkling  stars  gradually  thickening  in  the 
Bky. 

There  was  something  awful  in  the  solemn  stillness  that 
reigned  around  them ;  and  with  something  like  awe  did  it 
inspire  them. 

It  was  not  unbroken  by  sounds ;  but  these  were  of  a  char- 
acter to  sadden  rather  than  cheer  them,  for  they  were  sounds 
to  be  heard  only  in  the  wilderness  of  the  great  deep,  —  such 
ts  the  half-screaming  laugh  of  the  seamew,  and  the  wild 
whistle  of  the  boatswain-bird. 

Another  cause  of  discouragement  to  our  castaways,  —  one 
which  had  that  day  arisen,  —  was  the  loss  of  their  valuable 
dried  fish. 


192  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

It  is  true  that  only  a  portion  of  their  stock  had  been  spilled 
into  the  engulfing  ocean ;  but  even  this  was  a  cause  of  re- 
gret ;  since  it  might  not  be  so  easy  to  make  up  the  quantity 
lost 

While  angling  among  the  albacores,  with  the  prospect  of 
making  a  successful  troll,  they  had  thought  less  of  it.  Now 
that  these  fish  had  forsaken  them,  —  leaving  only  three  in 
their  possession,  —  and  they  were  in  doubt  whether  they 
might  ever  come  across  another  "  school,"  —  more  acutely  ' 
did  they  feel  the  misfortune. 

Their  spirits  sank  still  lower,  as  the  descending  twilight 
darkened  around  them  ;  and  for  an  hour  or  more  not  a  cheer- 
ful  word  was  heard  or  spoken  by  that  sad  quartette  compos 
ing  the  crew  of  the  Catamaran. 


CHAPTER    LIV. 

THANKSGIVING. 

DESPONDENCY  cannot  endure  forever.  Kind  Na- 
ture has  not  ordained  that  it  should  be  so.  It  may 
have  its  periods,  longer  or  shorter  as  the  case  may  be ;  but 
always  to  be  succeeded  by  intervals,  if  not  of  absolute  cheer- 
fulness, at  least  of  emotions  less  painful  to  endure. 

Abcut  an  hour  after  the  going  down  of  the  sun,  the  spirits 
of  those  on  board  the  Catamaran  became  partially  freed 
from  the  weight  that  for  some  time  had  been  pressing  upon 
them. 

Of  coarse  this  change  was  attributable  to  some  cause; 
and  as  it  was  a  physical  one,  there  could  be  no  difficulty 
in  tracing  it. 

It  was  simply  the  springing  up  of  a  breeze,  —  a  fine  breeze. 


THANKSGIVING.  193 

blowing  steadily,  and  to  the  west,  —  the  very  direction  in 
which  it  was  desirous  they  should  make  way. 

And  they  did  make  way ;  the  Catamaran,  in  spite  of  th« 
terrible  "  stab  "  she  had  received,  scudding  through  the  wa« 
ter,  as  if  to  show  that  the  assault  of  the  sword-fish  had  in  no 
way  disabled  her. 

Motion  has  always  a  soothing  effect  upon  any  one  suffer- 
ing from  despondent  spirits ;  more  especially  when  the  move- 
ment is  being  made  in  the  right  direction.  A  boat  stationary 
in  the  water,  or  drifting  the  wrong  way  against  the  stroke  of 
the  rower,  —  a  railway  carriage  at  a  stand,  or  gliding  back  to 
the  platform,  contrary  to  the  direction  in  which  the  traveller 
intends  to  go,  —  such  experiences  always  produce  a  feeling 
of  irksome  uneasiness.  When  either  begins  to  progress  in  its 
proper  course,  —  no  matter  how  slowly,  —  the  unpleasant 
feeling  instantly  passes  away  ;  for  we  know  that  we  are  go- 
ing "  onward  ! " 

"  Onward ! "  a  word  to  cheer  the  drooping  spirit,  —  a  glo- 
rious word  for  the  despondent. 

It  was  not  that  any  one  on  board  the  Catamaran  had  the 
slightest  idea  that  that  breeze  would  waft  them  to  land ;  or 
even  last  long  enough  to  bear  them  many  leagues  over  the 
ocean.  It  was  the  thought  that  they  were  making  progress 
in  the  right  course,  —  going  onward,  —  simply  that  thought 
that  cheered  them. 

It  roused  them  from  their  despondency  sufficiently  to  beget 
thoughts  of  supper ;  and  Snowball  was  seen  starting  up  with 
some  alacrity,  and  scrambling  towards  his  stores. 

His  "  locker  "  lay  amidships ;  and  as  he  had  not  far  to 
go,  nor  any  great  variety  of  comestibles  to  choose  from,  he 
eoon  returned  to  the  stern,  —  near  which  the  others  were 
seated,  —  carrying  in  his  outstretched  claws  half  a  dozen  of 
the  "  pickled  "  biscuits,  and  some  morsels  of  cured  fish. 

It  was  a  coarse  and  meagre  meal ;  at  which  even  a  pauper 
would  have  pouted  his  lips ;  but  to  those  for  whcm  it  wa» 
9  * 


194  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

intended  it  had  relish  enough  to  make  it  not  only  acceptable, 
but  welcome. 

A  greater  delicacy  was  before  their  eyes,  lying  on  the 
deck  of  the  Catamaran.  That  was  the  albacore,  —  a  fish 
whose  flesh  is  equal  in  excellence  to  that  of  any  taken  out 
of  the  ocean.  But  the  flesh  of  the  albacore  was  raw  ;  while 
that  of  Snowball's  stock,  if  not  cooked,  was  at  least  cured ; 
and  this,  in  the  opinion  of  the  Catamarans,  rendered  it  more 
palatable. 

With  a  little  "  Canary  "  to  wash  it  down,  it  was  not  to 
be  despised,  —  at  least,  under  the  circumstances  in  which 
they  were  who  supped  upon  it ;  but  the  wine  was  sparingly 
distributed,  and  drunk  with  a  large  admixture  of  water. 

The  bump  of  economy  stood  high  upon  the  skull  of  the 
Coromantee.  Perhaps  to  this  might  be  attributed  the  fact 
of  his  being  still  in  existence :  since  but  for  the  industry  he 
had  exhibited  in  collecting  his  stores,  and  his  careful  hoard- 
ing of  them,  he  might,  with  his  protegt,  have  long  before 
succumbed  to  starvation. 

While  eating  their  frugal  supper,  Snowball  expressed  re- 
gret at  not  having  a  fire,  —  upon  which  he  might  have 
cooked  a  cut  from  the  albacore.  The  chef-de-caboose  was  not 
ignorant  of  the  excellence  of  the  fish. 

He  really  felt  regret,  —  less  on  his  own  account,  than  in 
consideration  of  his  protege,  Lilly  Lalee ;  whose  palate  he 
would  fain  have  indulged  with  something  more  delicate  than 
eun-dried  fish  and  salty  biscuit. 

But  as  fire  was  out  of  the  question,  he  was  compelled  to 
forego  the  pleasure  of  cooking  Lake's  supper ;  and  could 
only  gain  gratification  by  giving  to  the  girl  more  tluu  ner 
share  of  the  sweet  Canary. 

Small  as  was  the  quantity  distriouied  to  each,  it  haj  the 
effect  of  still  further  cheering  them  ;  and,  after  supper,  they 
eat  for  some  time  indulging  in  lighter  converse  than  that  tf 
which  they  had  lately  accustomed  themselves. 


THANKSGIVING.  195 

"  Somethin' "  said  the  sailor,  "  seem  to  tell  me  — jest  as  if 
I  heerd  it  in  a  whisper  —  that  we  '11  yet  reech  land,  or  come 
in  sight  o'  a  ship.  I  doan'  know  what  puts  it  in  my  head ; 
unless  it  be  because  we  've  been  so  many  times  near  gun1 
down  below,  an'  still  we  're  above  water  yet,  an'  I  hop<5 
likely  to  keep  so." 

"Ya  —  ya!  Massa  Bct».  We  float  yet,  —  we  keep  ?o 
long 's  we  kin,  —  dat  fo'  sartin.  We  nebba  say  die,  —  long  'a 
de  Catamaran  hold  togedda." 

u  I  war  'stonished,"  continued  the  sailor,  without  heeding 
the  odd  interpolation  of  the  sea-cook,  "  wonderful  'stonished 
when  that  flyin'-fish  chucked  itself  aboard  our  bit  o'  plankin ; 
an'  it  no  bigger  than  the  combin'  o'  a  hatchway.  What  kud 
'a  conducted  it  thear,  —  to  that  spot  above  all  others  o'  the 
broad  ocean  ?  What  but  the  hand  o'  that  angel  as  sits  up 
aloft  ?  No,  Snowy !  ye  may  talk  as  ye  like  'bout  your  Dup- 
pys  and  Jumbes,  and  that  other  creetur  ye  call  your  Fetush ; 
but  I  tell  ye,  nigger,  thear  be  somethin'  up  above  us  as  is 
above  all  them,  —  an'  that 's  the  God  'o  the  Christyun.  He 
be  thear ;  and  He  sent  the  flyin'-fish  into  our  wee  bit  o'  raft, 
and  He  sent  the  shower  as  saved  me  and  little  Will'm  from 
dyin'  o'  thust ;  and  He  it  war  that  made  you  an'  me  drift  to- 
'rds  each  other,  —  so  as  that  we  might  work  thftgither  to  get 
out  o'  this  here  scrape,  as  our  own  foolishness  and  wicked- 
ness ha'  got  us  into." 

"  Dat  am  de  troof,  Massa  Brace,  dat  las'  remark,  — only 
not  altogedder !  'T  want  altogedder  our  own  fault  dat 
brought  us  on  board  de  slabe-ship  Pandora,  —  neider  you 
not  maseff.  It  mite  a  been  our  foolishness,  dat  I  do  admit ; 
but  de  wickedness  war  more  de  fault  ob  oder  men,  dat  am 
wickeder  dan  eider  you  or  dis  unfortunate  Corymantee 
nigga." 

"  Never  mind,  Snowy,"  responded  the  sailor,  "  I  know 
tb.3re  be  still  some  good  in  ye;  and  maybe  there  be  good 
in  all  o'  us,  to  be  favored  and  protected  ^s  we  ve  been  w 


196  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

the  midst  o'  so  many  dangers.  I  think  after  what 's  hap 
pened  this  day,  —  especially  our  escaping  from  that  shark, 
an'  the  long  swira  as  we  had  to  make  after'ards,  —  we  ought 
to  be  uncommon  thankful,  and  say  somethin'  to  show  it,  too." 

"  Say  something !  say  what,  Massa  Brace  ?  " 

"  I  mean  a  prayer." 

u  Prayer !  wha  's  dat  ?  " 

"  Surely,  Snowy,  you  know  what  a  prayer  be  ?  " 

"Nebba  heerd  ob  de  ting,  —  nebba  in  all  ma  life ! " 

"  Well,  it  be  to  say  somethin'  to  Him  as  keeps  watch  up 
aloft,  —  either  by  way  o'  askin'  for  somethin'  you  want  to 
get,  or  thankin'  Him  for  what  you  ha'  got  arready.  The 
first  be  called  a  prayer,  —  the  t'other  be  a  thanksgivin' 
Thear  ain't  much  difference,  as  I  could  ever  see ;  tho'  I  Ve 
heerd  the  ship's  chaplain  go  through  'em  both,  —  ay,  scores 
o'  times ;  but  the  one  as  we  want  now  be  the  thanks- 
givin' ;  an'  I  know  little  Will'm  here  can  go  through  it  like 
a  breeze.  Did  you  ever  hear  Will'm  pray,  Snowy  ?  " 

"  Nebba !  I  tell  ye,  Massa  Brace,  a  nebba  heer  anybody 
pray  in  de  fashun  you  'peak  'bout.  Ob  coas,  I  hab  heer  de 
nigga  talk  to  da  Fetish,  de  which  I,  tho'  I  be  a  nigga  ma- 
seff,  nebba  belieb'd  in.  Dis  child  no  belieb  in  anyting  he 
no  see,  an'  he  see  many  ting  he  no  belieb  in." 

To  this  frank  confession  of  faith  on  the  part  of  the  Cor- 
omantee  Ben  made  no  rejoinder  that  might  signify  either 
assent  or  opposition.  His  reply  was  rather  a  continuation  of 
the  train  of  thought  that  had  led  to  his  last  interrogative. 

"  Ah,  Snowy,  if  you  heerd  the  lad !  He  do  pray  beauti- 
ful !  Most  equal  to  the  parson,  as  we  had  aboard  the  frig- 
ate ;  an'  he  war  n't  slow  at  it,  eyther.  Do  'ee  think,  Will'm," 
continued  the  sailor,  turning  to  the  lad  with  an  inquiring 
look,  "  do  'ee  think  ye  can  remember  that  prayer  as  is  in  the 
Church  Sarvice,  and  which  I  Ve  heerd  the  frigate  chaplain 
go  through,  —  specially  after  a  storm,  —  as  speaks  about  de- 
'  us  from  all  dangers  by  sea  and  by  land  ?  You  v«» 


SNOWBALL   SEES  LAND.  197 

been!  it  at  home  in  the  church.     D'  ye  think  ye  could  gie  U 

08?" 

"O,"  answered  William,  "you  mean  the  'Thanksgiving 
for  Deliverance  from  our  Enemies.'  Certainly  I  remember 
it.  How  could  I  forget  what  I  've  heard  so  many  Sundays 
in  church,  besides  often  on  week-days  at  home  ?  Q  yes, 
Ben,  I  can  repeat  it,  if  you  wish ! " 

"I  do,  lad.  Gie  it  us,  then.  It  may  do  good.  At  all 
swents,  we  owe  it,  for  what 's  been  done  to  us.  So  take  a 
reef  out  o'  your  tongue,  lad,  an'  fire  away ! " 

Notwithstanding  the  bizarrerie  of  manner  in  which  the  re- 
quest was  made,  the  boy  sailor  hesitated  not  to  comply  with 
it ;  and  turning  himself  round  upon  his  knees,  —  a  move- 
ment imitated  by  all  the  others,  —  he  repeated  that  thanks- 
giving of  the  Church  Service,  which,  though  well-known, 
is  fortunately  only  heard  upon  very  unfrequent  occasions. 

The  thanksgiving  appeared  an  appropriate  finale  to  the 
toils  and  dangers  of  the  day ;  and  after  it  was  offered  up, 
Snowball,  William,  and  Lalee  lay  down  to  rest,  —  leaving 
Ben  Brace  to  attend  to  the  steering-oar,  and  otherwise  per- 
form the  duties  of  the  dog-watch. 


CHAPTER    LV. 

SNOWBALL    SEES   LAND. 

THE  man-o'-war's-man  kept  watch  during  th(,  long  hours 
of  the  night. 

True  to  his  trust,  he  attended  to  the  steei'ing-oar :  and  as 
the  breeze  continued  to  blow  steadily  in  the  same  direction, 
the  raft,  under  the  double  propulsion  of  the  wind  and  the 
"line  current,"  made  considerable  way  to  the  westward. 


198  THK   OCEAN  WAIFS. 

A  sort  of  filmy  fog  had  arisen  over  the  ocean,  which  hid 
the  stars  from  sight.  This  might  have  rendered  it  impos- 
sible for  the  steersman  to  keep  his  course ;  but,  under  the 
belief  that  there  was  no  change  occurring  in  the  direction 
of  the  wind,  Ben  guided  himself  by  that,  and  very  prop- 
erly, as  it  afterwards  proved. 

Just  before  daybreak,  he  was  relieved  by  Snowball ;  who 
enlercd  upon  his  watch,  a/  the  same  time  taking  his  turn  at 
the  steering-oar. 

Ben  had  not  aroused  the  negro  for  this  purpose ;  and  he 
would  have  generously  remained  at  his  post  until  morning, 
aad  Snowball  desired  to  prolong  his  slumbers. 

The  act  of  arousing  himself  was  not  altogether  voluntary 
on  the  part  of  the  negro ;  though  neither  was  it  the  doing 
of  his  comrade.  It  was  in  consequence  of  a  physical  feel- 
ing—  a  cold  shivering  caused  by  the  damp  sea-fog — that 
Snowball  had  been  disturbed  from  his  sleep ;  and  which,  on 
his  awaking,  kept  him  for  some  minutes  oscillating  in  a  sort 
of  ague,  his  ivories  "dingling"  against  each  other  with  a 
continuous  rattle  that  resembled  the  clattering  of  some  loose 
bolt  in  a  piece  of  machinery  out  of  repair. 

It  was  some  time  before  Snowball  could  recover  his  exact 
equilibrium ;  for,  of  all  sorts  of  climate,  that  least  endurable 
to  the  Coromantee  negro  is  a  cold  one. 

After  repeated  flopping  his  arms  over  his  broad  chest,  and 
striking  crosswise,  until  the  tips  of  his  fingers  almost  met 
upon  the  spinal  column  of  his  back,  Snowball  succeeded  in 
resuscitating  the  circulation;  and  then,  perceiving  it  was  full 
time  to  take  his  turn  at  the  helm,  he  proposed  relieving  the 
sailor. 

This  proposal  was  agreed  to ;  Ben,  before  putting  himself 
in  a  position  for  repose,  giving  Snowball  the  necessary  direc- 
tions as  to  the  course  in  which  the  Catamaran  was  to  b« 
kept. 

In  five  minutes  after,  the  sailor, was  asleep ;  and  the  sea- 


SNOWBALL  SEES  LAND.  I*. 

cook  was  the  only  one  of  the  Catamarans  win  vas  conscioui 
that  the  craft  that  carried  them  was  only  a  frail  structure 
drifting  in  mid-ocean  hundreds  of  miles  from  land. 

Little  William  was,  perhaps,  dreaming  of  his  English,  and 
I  illy  Lalee  of  her  African,  home ;  while  the  sailor,  in  all 
probability,  was  fancying  himself  safely  "stowed  '  in  the 
lorecastle  of  a  British  frigate,  with  all  sail  rightly  set,  and  a 
couple  of  hundred  jolly  Jacks  like  himself  stretched  out  in 
their  "bunks"  or  swinging  in  their  hammocks  around  him. 

During  the  first  hour  of  his  watch,  Snowball  did  not  em- 
barrass his  brain  with  any  other  idea  than  simply  to  follow 
the  instructions  of  the  sailor,  and  keep  the  Catamaran  be- 
fore the  wind. 

There  had  been  something  said  about  keeping  a  look-out, 
in  the  hope  of  espying  a  sail ;  but  in  the  dense  fog  that  sur- 
rounded them  there  would  be  no  chance  of  seeing  the  big- 
gest ship,  —  even  should  one  be  passing  at  an  ordinary 
cable's  length  from  the  Catamaran. 

Snowball,  therefore,  did  not  trouble  himself  to  scan  the 
sea  on  either  side  of  their  course ;  but  for  all  that  he  kept 
the  look-out  enjoined  on  him  by  the  sailor,  —  that  is,  he  kept 
it  with  his  ears  ! 

Though  a  ship  might  not  be  seen,  the  voices  of  her  crew 
or  other  sounds  occurring  aboard  might  be  heard ;  for  in  this 
way  the  presence  of  a  vessel  is  often  proclaimed  in  a  very 
dark  night  or  when  the  sea  is  obscured  by  a  fog. 

Oftener,  however,  at  such  times,  two  ships  will  approach 
and  recede  from  one  another,  without  either  having  been 
conscious  of  the  proximity  of  the  other, —  meeting  in  mid- 
ocean  and  gliding  silently  past,  like  two  giant  spectres,— 
each  bent  on  its  own  noiseless  errand. 

Daybreak  arrived  without  the  black  pilot  having  heard 
any  sound,  beyond  that  of  the  breeze  rustl'ng  against  th« 
sail  of  the  Catamaran,  or  the  hollow  "  sougl,  "  of  the  water 
as  it  surged  against  the  empty  casks  lashed  along  their  side* 


200  THE   OCEAN    \VAIFS. 

As  the  day  broke,  however,  and  the  upper  edge  ol  th« 
inn's  disk  became  visible  above  the  horizon,  —  the  fog  under 
the  influence  of  his  rays  growing  gradually  but  sensibly 
thinner,  —  a  sight  became  disclosed  to  the  eyes  of  Snowball 
that  caused  (he  blood  to  course  with  lightning  quickness 
through  his  veins  ;  while  his  heart,  beating  delightfully  within 
his  capacious  chest,  bounded  far  above  the  region  of  his 
diaphragm. 

At  the  same  instant  he  sprang  to  his  feet,  dropped  the 
Bteering-oar,  as  if  it  had  been  a  bar  of  red-hot  iron ;  and, 
striding  forward  to  the  starboard  bow  of  the  Catamaran, 
stood  gazing  outward  upon  the  ocean  ! 

What  could  have  caused  this  sudden  commotion  in  both 
the  mind  and  body  of  the  Coromantee?  What  spectaclo 
could  have  thus  startled  him  ? 

It  was  the  sight  of  land! 


CHAPTER    LVI. 

IS    IT   LAND  ? 

A  SIGHT  so  unexpected,  and  yet  so  welcome,  should 
have  elicited  from  him  a  vociferous  announcement  of 
the  fa*t. 

It  did  not.  On  the  contrary,  he  kept  silent  while  step- 
ping forward  on  the  deck,  and  for  some  time  after,  while  ha 
stood  gazing  over  the  bow. 

It  was  the  very  unexpectedness  of  seeing  land  —  com 
bined  with  the  desirability  of  such  a  sight  —  that  hindered 
him  from  proclaiming  it  to  his  companions ;  and  it  was  some 
time  before  he  became  convinced  that  his  senses  were  nol 
deceiving  him. 


IS  IT  LAND?  201 

Though  endowed  with  only  a  very  limited  knowledge  of 
nautical  geography,  the  negro  knew  a  good  deal  about  the 
lower  latitudes  of  the  Atlantic.  More  than  once  had  ha 
made  that  dreaded  middle  passage,  —  once  in  fetters,  and 
often  afterwards  assisting  to  carry  others  across  in  the  same 
unfeeling  fashion.  He  knew  of  no  land  anywhere  near 
where  they  were  now  supposed  to  be;  had  never  seen  or 
heard  of  any,  —  neither  island,  rock,  nor  reef.  He  knew 
of  the  Isle  of  Ascension,  and  the  lone  islet  of  St.  Paul's. 
But  neither  of  these  could  be  near  the  track  on  which 
the  Catamaran  was  holding  her  course.  It  could  not  be 
either. 

And  yet  what  was  it  he  saw?  for,  sure  as  eyes  were  eyes, 
there  was  an  island  outlined  upon  the  retina,  so  plainly  per- 
ceptible, that  his  senses  could  not  be  deceiving  him  ! 

It  was  after  this  conviction  became  fully  established  in  his 
mind,  that  he  at  length  broke  silence ;  and  in  a  voice  that 
woke  his  slumbering  companions  with  a  simultaneous  start. 

"  Land  'o  ! "  vociferated  Snowball. 

"  Land  ho ! "  echoed  Ben  Brace,  springing  to  his  feet, 
and  rubbing  the  sleep  out  of  his  eyes.  "  Land,  you  say, 
Snowy  ?  Impossible !  You  must  be  mistaken,  nigger." 

"  Land  ?  "  interrogated  little  William.  "  Whereaway, 
Snowball?" 

"  Land  ?  "  cried  the  Portuguese  girl,  comprehending  that 
word  of  joyful  signification,  though  spoken  in  a  language  nc  t 
her  own. 

"  Whar  away  ?  "  inquired  the  sailor,  as  he  scrambled  over 
the  planks  of  the  raft,  to  get  on  the  forward  side  of  the  sail, 
which  hindered  his  field  of  view. 

"  Hya  ! "  replied  Snowball.  "  Hya,  Massa  Brace,  jess 
to  la'bord,  ober  de  la'bord  bow." 

"  It  do  look  like  land,"  assented  the  sailor,  directing  hia 
glance  upon  something  of  a  strange  appearance,  Ion  down 
upon  the  surface  of  tL^  sea,  and  still  but  dimly  discernible 
9* 


202  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

through  the  fog.  "  Shiver  my  timbers  if  it  don't !  An  island 
it  be, — not  a  very  big  'un,  but  for  all  that,  it  seem  a  island." 

"  My  gollies  !  dar  am  people  on  it !  D'  you  see  um, 
Massa  Brace  ?  movin  'bout  all  ober  it.  I  see  'um  plain  aa 
de  sun  in  de  hebbens  !  Scores  o'  people  a  'gwine  about 
back'ard  an'  forrads.  See  yonner  ! " 

"  Plain  as  the  sun  in  the  heavens,"  was  not  a  very  appro- 
priate simile  for  Snowball  to  make  use  of  at  that  moment ; 
for  the  orb  of  day  was  still  darkly  obscured  by  the  fog ;  and 
for  the  same  reason,  the  outlines  of  the  island,  —  or  what- 
ever they  were  taking  for  one,  —  could  be  traced  only  very 
indistinctly. 

Certain  it  is,  however,  that  Snowball,  who  had  been  gaz- 
ing longer  at  the  supposed  land,  and  had  got  his  eyes  more 
accustomed  to  the  view,  did  see  some  scores  of  figures  mov- 
ing about  over  it ;  and  Ben  Brace,  with  little  William  as 
well,  now  that  their  attention  was  called  to  them,  could  per- 
ceive the  same  forms. 

"  Bless  my  stars  ! "  exclaimed  the  sailor,  on  making  out 
that  the  figures  were  in  motion,  "  thear  be  men  on 't,  sure 
enough,  —  an'  weemen,  I  should  say,  —  seein'  as  there  'a 
some  o'  'em  in  whitish  clothes.  Who  and  what  can  they 
be  ?  Shiver  my  timbers  if  I  can  believe  it,  tho'  I  see  it 
right  afore  my  eyes  !  I  never  heerd  o'  a  island  in  this 
part  of  the  Atlantic,  an'  I  don't  believe  thear  be  one,  'ceptin1 
it 's  sprung  up  within  the  last  year  or  two.  What  do  you 
think,  Snowy  ?  Be  it  a  Flyin'  Dutchman,  or  a  rock,  as  if 
just  showin'  his  snout  above  water,  or  a  reg'lar-built  isl- 
and ?  ' 

"  Dat  'ere  am  no  Flyin'  Dutchman,  —  leas'wise  a  hop« 
um  no'  be.  No,  Massa  Brace,  dis  nigga  wa  right  in  de  fuss 
speckelashun.  'Tarn  a  island,  —  a  bit  ob  do  real  terrer 
firmer,  as  you  soon  see  when  we  puts  de  Cat'maran  'bout 
an'  gits  a  leef  le  nearer  to  de  place." 

This  hypothetic  suggestion  on  the  part  of  the  Coromante* 


IS  IT  LAND?  203 

wns  aluo  intende.l  as  a  counsel  ;  and,  acting  upon  it,  he 
sailor  scrambled  back  over  the  raft,  and  seizing  hold  of  the 
steering-oar,  turned  the  Catamaran's  head  straight  in  the 
direction  of  the  newly-discovered  land. 

The  island,  —  if  such  it  should  prove  to  be,  —  was  of  no 
very  great  extent.  It  appeared  to  run  along  the  horizon  a 
distance  of  something  h'ke  a  hundred  yards ;  but  estimates 
formed  in  this  fashion  are  often  deceptive,  —  more  especially 
when  a  fog  interferes,  such  as  at  that  moment  hung  over  it. 

The  land  appeared  to  be  elevated  several  feet  above  the 
level  of  the  sea,  —  at  one  end  having  a  bold  bluff-like  ter- 
mination, at  the  other  shelving  off  in  a  gentle  slope  towards 
the  water. 

It  was  principally  upon  the  more  elevated  portion  that  the 
figures  were  seen,  —  here  standing  in  groups  of  three  or 
four,  and  there  moving  about  in  twos,  or  singly. 

They  appeared  to  be  of  different  sizes,  and  differently 
dressed :  for,  even  through  the  film,  it  could  be  seen  that 
their  garments  were  of  various  cuts  and  colors.  Some  were 
stalwart  fellows,  beside  whom  were  others  that  in  comparison 
were  mere  pygmies.  These  Snowball  said  were  the  "  pick- 
aninnies," —  the  children  of  the  taller  ones. 

They  were  in  different  attitudes  too.  Some  standing 
erect,  apparently  carrying  long  lance-like  weapons  over  their 
shoulders ;  others  similarly  armed,  in  stooping  positions  ; 
while  not  a  few  appeared  to  be  actively  engaged,  handling 
huge  pickaxes,  with  which  they  repeatedly  struck  down- 
wards, as  if  excavating  the  soil ! 

It  is  true  that  their  manoeuvres  were  seen  only  indis- 
tinctly :  and  it  was  not  possible  for  the  Catamarans  to  come 
to  any  certain  understanding,  as  to  what  sort  of  work  was 
going  on  upon  the  island. 

It  was  still  very  doubtful  whether  what  they  saw  was  in 
reality  an  island,  or  that  the  figures  upon  it  w  re  those  of 
human  beings.  Snowball  believed  them  to  b<  so,  and  em- 


204  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

phatically  asserted  his  belief;  but  Ben  was  slightly  incredu 
lous  and  undecided,  notwithstanding  that  he  had  several 
times  "  shivered  his  timbers  "  in  confirmation  of  the  fact. 

It  was  not  the  possibility  of  the  existence  of  an  island 
that  the  sailor  disputed.  That  was  possible  and  probable 
enocgh.  At  the  time  of  which  we  speak,  new  islands  were 
constantly  turning  up  in  the  ocean,  where  no  land  was  sup- 
posed to  exist;  and  even  at  the  present  hour,  when  one  might 
suppose  that  every  inch  of  the  sea  has  been  sailed  over,  the 
discovery  of  rocks,  shoals,  and  even  unknown  islands,  is  far 
from  unfrequent. 

It  was  not  the  island,  therefore,  that  now  puzzled  the 
ex-man-o'-war's-man,  but  the  number  of  people  appearing 
upon  it. 

Had  there  been  only  a  score,  or  a  score  and  a  half,  he 
could  have  explained  the  circumstance  of  its  being  in- 
habited ;  though  the  explanation  would  not  have  been  pro- 
ductive of  pleasure  either  to  himself  or  his  companions. 
In  that  case  he  would  have  believed  the  moving  forms  to  be 
the  shipwrecked  crew  of  the  Pandora  who  on  this  ocean 
islet  had  found  a  temporary  resting-place ;  while  the  pick- 
axes, which  were  being  freely  employed,  would  have  indi- 
cated the  sinking  of  wells  in  search  after  fresh  water. 

The  number  of  people  on  the  island,  however,  with  other 
circumstances  observed,  at  once  contradicted  the  idea  that 
it  could  be  the  crew  of  the  shipwrecked  slaver;  and  the 
certainty  that  it  was  not  these  ruffians  whom  they  saw  em- 
boldened the  Catamarans  in  their  approach. 

In  spite  of  appearances,  still  was  the  sailor  disposed  to 
doubt  the  existence  of  an  island ;  or,  at  least,  that  the  forma 
moving  to  and  fro  over  its  surface  were  those  of  human 
beings. 

Nor  could  he  be  cured  of  his  incredulity  until  the  Ga» 
tamaran,  approaching  still  nearer  to  the  shore  of  the  doubt- 
fid  islet,  enabled  him  to  see  and  distinguish  beyond  the 


THE  KING  OF  THE  CANNII  AL  ISLANDS.  204 

possibility  of  doubt  a  flag  floating  frcm  the  top  of  its  staff, 
which  rose  tall  and  tapering  from  the  very  highest  point  of 
land  which  the  place  afforded! 

The  flag  was  of  crimson  cloth,  —  apparently  a  piece  of 
bunting.  It  floated  freely  upon  the  breeze  ;  which  the  filmy 
mist,  though  half  disclosing,  could  not  altogether  conceal. 
The  deep  red  color  was  too  scarce  upon  the  ocean  to  be 
mistaken  for  the  livery  of  any  of  its  denizens.  It  could 
not  be  the  tail-feathers  of  the  tropic  bird  so  prized  by  the 
chiefs  of  Polynesia ;  nor  yet  the  scarlet  pouch  of  the  sea- 
hawk. 

It  could  be  nothing  else  than  a  "  bit  o'  buntin'." 
So,  at  length,  believed  Ben  Brace,  and  his  belief,  ex- 
pressed in  his  own  peculiar  patois,  produced  conviction  in 
the  minds  of  all,  that  the  object  extending  along  a  hundred 
fathoms  of  the  horizon,  "  must  be  eyther  a  rock,  a  reef,  or 
a  island ;  and  the  creeturs  movin  over  it  must  be  men, 
weemen,  an'  childer  !  " 


CHAPTER    LVII. 

THE   KING    OF   THE    CANNIBAL   ISLANDS. 

THE  emphatic  declaration  of  the  sailor,  —  that  the  dark 
disc  before  them  must  be  an  island,  and  that  the  up- 
right forms  upon  it  were  those  of  human  beings,  —  dispelled 
all  doubts  upon  the  subject ;  and  produced  a  feeling  of  wild 
excitement  in  the  minds  of  all  three  of  his  companions. 

So  strong  was  this  feeling,  that  they  could  no  longer  con- 
trol themselves ;  but  gave  vent  to  their  emotions  in  a  simul- 
taneous shout  of  joy. 

Acting  prudently,  they  would  have  resigned  that  mirth- 


THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

.^hibition,  for  although,  for  reasons  already  stated,  the 
people  appearing  upon  the  island  could  not  be  the  wijked 
castaways  who  had  composed  the  crew  of  the  Pandora,  still 
might  they  be  a  tribe  of  savages  equally  wicked  and  mur- 
derous. 

Who  could  tell  that  it  was  not  a  community  of  Cannibals 1 
No  one  aboard  the  Catamaran. 

It  may  seem  singular  that  such  a  thought  should  have 
entered  the  mind  of  any  of  the  individuals  who  occupied 
the  raft.  But  it  did  occur  to  some  of  them ;  and  to  one  of 
the  four  in  particular.  This  was  Ben  Brace  himself. 

The  sailor's  experience,  so  far  from  destroying  the  ere 
deuces  of  boyhood,  —  which  included  the  existence,  of  whole 
tribes  of  cannibals,  —  had  only  strengthened  his  belief  in  such 
anthropophagi. 

More  than  strengthened  it :  for  it  had  been  confirmed  in 
every  particular. 

He  had  been  to  the  Fiji  islands,  where  he  had  seen  their 
king,  Thakombau,  —  a  true  descendant  of  the  lineage  of 
"  Hokey-Pokey-Winkey-Wum,"  —  with  other  dignitaries  of 
this  man-eating  nation.  He  had  seen  their  huge  caldronr; 
for  cooking  the  flesh  of  men,  —  their  pots  and  pans  for  stew- 
ing it,  —  their  dishes  upon  which  it  was  served  up,  —  the 
knives  with  which  they  were  accustomed  to  carve  it,  —  their 
larders  stocked  with  human  flesh,  and  redolent  of  human 
blood !  Nay,  more ;  the  English  sailor  had  been  an  eye- 
witness of  one  of  their  grand  festivals ;  where  the  bodies  of 
men  and  women,  cooked  in  various  styles,  —  stewed,  roasted, 
and  boiled,  —  had  been  served  out  and  partaken  of  by  hun- 
dreds of  Thakombau's  courtiers;  the  sailor's  own  captain, 
—  the  captain  of  a  British  frigate,  —  ay,  the  commodore 
of  a  British  squadron,  —  with  cannon  sufficient  to  have  blown 
the  island  of  Yiti  Vau  out  of  the  water,  —  sitting  along 
side,  apparently  a  tranquil  and  contented  spectator  of  the 
horrid  ceremonial ! 


THE  KING   OF  THE  CANNIBAL  ISLANDS.  20? 

It  is  difficult  to  account  for  the  behavior  of  this  English- 
man, the  Hon.  by  name.  The  only  explanation  of 

his  conduct  one  can  arrive  at  is,  to  believe  that  his  weak 
mind  was  fast  confined  by  the  trammels  of  that  absurd,  but 
often  too  convenient,  theory  of  international  non-interference, 
—  the  most  dangerous  kind  of  red-tape  that  ever  tethered 
tke  squeamish  conscience  of  an  official  imbecile. 

How  different  was  the  action  of  Wilkes,  —  that  Yankee 
commander  we  are  so  fond  of  finding  fault  with  !  He,  too, 
paid  a  visit  to  the  cannibal  island  of  Viti  Vau ;  and  while 
there,  taught  both  its  king  and  its  people  a  lesson  by  the  fire 
of  his  forty-pounders  that,  if  not  altogether  effective  in  ex- 
tinguishing this  national  but  unnatural  custom,  has  terrified 
them  in  its  practice  to  this  very  day. 

Non-interference,  indeed !  International  delicacy  in  the 
treatment  of  a  tribe  of  cruel  savages !  A  nation  of  man- 
eaters,  —  forsooth,  a  nation !  Why  not  apply  the  laws  of 
nationality  to  every  band  of  brigands  who  chances  to  have 
conquered  an  independent  existence  ?  Bah  1  The  world  is 
full  of  frivolous  pretences,  —  drunk  with  the  poison-cup  of 
political  hypocrisy. 

It  was  not  Ben  Brace  who  thus  reasoned,  but  his  biogra- 
pher. Ben's  reflections  were  of  a  strictly  practical  character. 
His  belief  in  cannibalism  was  complete ;  and  as  the  craft 
to  which  he  had  so  involuntarily  attached  himself  drifted  on 
towards  the  mysterious  islet,  he  was  not  without  some  misgiv- 
ings as  to  the  character  of  the  people  who  might  inhabit  it. 

For  this  reason  he  would  have  approached  its  shores  with 
greater  caution ;  and  he  was  in  the  act  of  enforcing  this  upon 
his  companions,  when  his  intention  was  entirely  frustrated  by 
the  joyous  huzza  uttered  by  Snowball ;  echoed  by  little  Wil 
liam  ;  and  chorussed  by  the  childish,  feminine  voice  of  Lilly 
Lalee. 

The  sailor's  caution  would  have  come  too  late,  —  eve  n  had 
it  been  necessary  to  tne  safety  of  the  Catamaran'  frew, 


208  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

Fortunately  it  was  not :  for  that  imprudent  shout  produced 
an  effect  which  at  once  changed  the  current  of  the  thought^, 
not  only  of  Ben  Brace,  but  of  those  who  had  given  utter 
ance  to  it. 

Their  united  voices,  pealing  across  the  tranquil  bosom  of 
the  deep,  caused  a  sudden  change  in  the  appearance  of  the 
island  ;  or  rather  among  the  people  who  inhabited  it.  If 
human  beings,  they  must  be  of  a  strange  race,  —  very 
strange  indeed,  —  to  have  been  furnished  with  wings!  How 
otherwise  could  they  have  forsaken  their  footing  on  terra 
firma,  —  if  the  island  was  such,  —  and  soared  upward  into 
the  air,  which  one  and  all  of  them  did,  on  hearing  that  shout 
from  the  Catamaran  ? 

There  was  not  much  speculation  on  this  point  on  the  part 
of  the  Catamaran's  crew.  Whatever  doubts  may  have  been 
engendered  as  to  the  nature  of  the  island,  there  could  be  no 
longer  any  about  the  character  of  its  inhabitants. 

"  Dey  am  birds  ! "  suggested  the  Coromantee  ;  "  nuffin 
more  and  nuffin  less  dan  birds  ! " 

"  You  're  right,  Snowy,"  assented  the  sailor.  "  They  be 
birds ;  and  all  the  better  they  be  so.  Yes ;  they  're  birds,  for 
sartin.  I  can  tell  the  cut  o'  some  o'  their  jibs.  I  see  frig- 
ates, an'  a  man-o'-war's-man,  an'  boobies  among  'em ;  and 
I  reckon  Old  Mother  Carey  has  a  brood  o'  her  chickens 
there.  They  be  all  sizes,  as  ye  see." 

It  was  no  more  a  matter  of  conjecture,  as  to  what  kind  of 
creatures  inhabited  the  island.  The  forms  that  had  been 
mystifying  the  crew  of  the  Catamaran,  though  of  the  biped 
class,  were  no  longer  to  be  regarded  as  human  beings,  or 
even  creatures  of  the  earth.  They  had  declared  themselves 
denizens  of  the  air ;  and,  startled  by  the  shouts  that  had 
reached  them,  —  to  them,  no  doubt,  sounds  strange,  and 
never  before  heard,  —  they  had  sought  security  in  an  ele- 
ment into  which  there  was  no  fear  of  being  followed  by 
their  enemies,  either  of  the  earth  or  the  water. 


VERY  LIKE  A  WHALE.  201 

CHAPTER    IVIII. 

VERT   LIKE    A   WHALE. 

THOUGH  the  birds  by  their  flight  had  dissolved  one 
half  of  the  speculative  theory  which  the  crew  of  the 
Catamaran  had  constructed,  the  other  half  still  held  good. 
The  inland  was  still  there,  before  their  eyes ;  though  com- 
pletely divested  of  its  inhabitants,  —  whose  sudden  eviction 
had  cost  only  a  single  shout ! 

The  flag  was  still  waving  over  it ;  though,  to  all  appear- 
ance, there  was  not  a  creature  on  shore  that  might  feel  pride 
in  saluting  that  solitary  standard  ! 

There  could  be  no  one ;  else  why  should  the  birds  have 
tarried  so  long  undisturbed,  to  be  scared  at  last  by  the  mere 
sound  of  human  voices  ? 

Since  there  was  nobody  on  the  island,  there  was  no  need 
to  observe  further  caution  in  approaching  it,  —  except  so  far 
as  regarded  the  conduct  of  their  craft ;  and  in  the  belief  that 
they  were  about  to  set  foot  upon  the  shores  of  a  desert 
isle,  the  sailor  and  Snowball,  with  little  William  assisting 
them,  now  went  to  work  with  the  oars  and  hastened  their 
approach  to  the  land. 

Partly  impelled  by  the  breeze,  and  partly  by  the  strength 
of  the  rowers,  the  Catamaran  moved  briskly  through  the 
water ;  and,  before  many  minutes  had  elapsed,  the  craft  was 
within  a  few  hundred  fathoms  of  the  mysterious  island,  and 
still  gliding  nearer  to  it. 

This  proximity,  —  along  with  the  fact  that  the  morning 
mist  had  meanwhile  been  gradually  becoming  dispelled  by 
the  rays  of  the  rising  sun,  —  enabled  her  crew  to  obtain  a 
clearer  view  of  the  object  before  them ;  and  Ben  Brace, 
suspending  his  exertions  at  the  oar,  once  mote  slewed  him- 
self round  to  have  a 'fresh  look  at  the  supj  >sed  land 


210  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

"  Land !  he  exclaimed,  as  soon  as  his  eyes  again  rested 
npon  it.  "  A  island,  indeed !  Shiver  my  timbers  if  't  bo  a 
island  after  all !  That  be  no  land,  —  ne'er  a  bit  o't.  It 
look  like  a  rock,  too ;  but  there  be  something  else  it  look 
liker ;  an'  that  be  a  whale,  'T  is  wery  like  a  whale ! " 

"  Berry,  —  berry  like  a  whale ! "  echoed  Snowball,  not 
too  well  satisfied  at  discovering  the  resemblance. 

"  It  be  a  whale  ! "  pronounced  the  sailor,  in  a  tone  of  em 
phatic  confidence,  —  "a  whale,  an'  nothin'  else.  Ay,"  he 
continued  speaking,  as  if  some  new  light  had  broken  upon 
him,  "  I  see  it  all  now.  It  be  one  o'  the  great  spermacety 
whales.  I  wonder  I  did  n't  think  o't  afore.  It 's  been 
killed  by  some  whaling-vessel ;  and  the  flag  you  see  on  its 
back's  neyther  more  nor  less  than  one  o'  their  whifts. 
They  've  stuck  it  there,  so  as  they  might  be  able  to  find  the 
sparmacety  when  they  come  back.  Marcy  heaven  !  I  hope 
they  will  come  back." 

As  Ben  finished  this  explanatory  harangue,  he  started 
into  an  erect  attitude,  and  placed  himself  on  the  highest 
part  of  the  Catamaran's  deck,  —  his  eyes  no  longer  bent 
upon  the  whale,  but,  with  greedy  glances,  sweeping  the  sea 
around  it. 

The  object  of  this  renewed  reconnoissance  may  be  under- 
stood from  the  words  to  which  he  had  given  utterance,— 
the  hope  expressed  at  the  termination  of  his  speech.  The 
whale  must  have  been  killed,  as  he  had  .-aid.  He  was  look- 
ing for  the  whaler. 

For  full  ten  minutes  he  continued  his  optical  search  over 
the  sea,  —  until  not  a  fathom  of  the  surface  had  escaped  h'-S 
scrutiny. 

At  first  his  glances  had  expressed  almost  a  confident 
hope  ;  and,  observing  them,  the  others  became  excited  to  a 
high  degree  of  joy. 

Gradually,  however,  the  old  shadow  returned  over  tha 
sailor's  countenance,  and  was  instantly  transferred  to  the 
faces  of  his  companions 


VERY  LIKE  A  WHALt  2H 

The  sea,  —  as  far  as  his  eye  could  command  a  view  of  it, 
—  showed  neither  sail,  nor  any  other  object.  Its  shining 
surface  was  absolutely  without  a  speck. 

With  a  disappointed  air,  the  captain  of  the  Catamaran 
descended  from  his  post  of  observation ;  and  once  more 
turned  his  attention  to  the  dead  cachalot  from  which  they 
were  now  separated  by  less  than  a  hundred  fathoms,  —  a 
distance  that  was  constantly  decreasing,  as  the  raft,  under 
sail,  continued  to  drift  nearer. 

The  body  of  the  whale  did  not  appear  anything  like  as 
large  as  when  first  seen.  The  mist  was  no  longer  producing 
its  magnifying  effect  upon  the  vision  of  our  adventurers ;  but 
although  the  carcass  of  the  cachalot  could  no  more  have  been 
mistaken  for  an  island,  still  was  it  an  object  of  enormous 
dimensions ;  and  might  easily  have  passed  for  a  great  black 
rock  standing  several  fathoms  above  the  surface  of  the  sea. 
It  was  over  twenty  yards  in  length ;  and,  seen  sideways  from 
the  raft,  of  course  appeared  much  longer. 

In  five  minutes  after,  they  were  close  up  to  the  dead 
whale ;  and,  the  sail  being  lowered,  the  raft  was  brought  to. 
Ben  threw  a  rope  around  one  of  the  pectoral  fins ;  and,  after 
making  it  fast,  the  Catamaran  lay  moored  alongside  the 
cachalot,  like  some  diminutive  tender  attached  to  a  huge  ship 
of  war ! 

There  were  several  reasons  why  Ben  Brace  should  mount 
np  to  the  summit  of  that  mountain  of  whalebone  and  blubber ; 
and,  as  soon  as  the  raft  had  been  safely  secured,  he  essayed 
the  ascent. 

It  was  not  such  a  trifling  feat,  —  this  climbing  upon  the 
carcass  of  the  dead  whale.  Nor  was  it  to  be  done  without 
danger.  The  slippery  epidermis  of  the  huge  leviathan, — 
lubricated  as  it  was  with  that  unctuous  fluid  which  the  skin 
of  the  spenn-whale  is  known  to  secrete,  —  rendered  footing 
upon  it  extremely  insecure. 

It  might  be  fancied  no  great  matter  for  a  swiiuner  lik* 


212  THE  OCKAX  \VAIFS. 

Ben  Brace  to  slide  off:  since  a  fall  of  a  few  feet  into  the 
water  could  not  cause  him  any  great  bodily  hurt.  But  when 
the  individual  forming  this  fancy  has  been  told  that  there 
was  something  like  a  score  of  sharks  prowling  around  the 
carcass,  he  will  obtain  a  more  definite  idea  of  the  danger  to 
which  such  a  fall  would  have  submitted  the  adventurous 
seaman. 

Ben  Brace  was  the  last  man  to  be  cowed  by  a  trifling 
danger,  or  even  one  of  magnitude ;  and  partly  by  Snowball's 
assistance,  and  using  the  pectoral  flipper  to  which  the  raft 
was  attached  as  a  stirrup,  he  succeeded  in  mounting  upon 
the  back  of  the  defunct  monster  of  the  deep. 

As  soon  as  he  had  steadied  himself  in  his  new  position,  a 
piece  of  rope  was  thrown  up  to  him,  —  by  which  Snowball 
was  himself  hoisted  to  the  shoulders  of  the  cachalot ;  and 
then  the  two  seamen  proceeded  towards  the  tail,  —  or,  as  the 
sailor  pronounced  it,  the  "  starn  "  of  this  peculiar  craft. 

A  little  aft  of  "  midships "  a  pyramidal  lump  of  fatty 
substance  projected  several  feet  above  the  line  of  the  ver- 
tebraj.  It  was  the  spurious  or  rudimentary  dorsal  fin,  with 
which  the  sperm-whale  is  provided. 

On  arriving  at  this  protuberance,  —  which  chanced  to  be 
the  highest  point  on  the  carcass  where  the  flag  was  elevated 
on  its  slender  shaft,  —  both  came  to  a  halt ;  and  there  stood 
together,  gazing  around  them  over  the  glittering  surface  of 
the  sunlit  sea 


ABOARD  THE  BODY  OF  A   WHALE.  213 

CHAPTER    LIX. 

ABOARD   THE   BODY   OF   A   WHALE. 

object  of  their  united  reconnoissance  was  the  same 

1  which,  but  a  few  moments  before,  had  occupied  the 
attention  of  the  sailor.  They  weie  standing  on  the  dead 
body  of  a  whale  that  had  been  killed  by  harpoons.  Where 
were  the  people  who  had  harpooned  it  ? 

After  scanning  the  horizon  with  the  same  careful  scrutiny 
as  before,  the  sailor  once  more  turned  his  attention  to  the 
hnge  leviathan,  on  whose  back  they  were  borne. 

Several  objects  not  before  seen  now  attracted  the  atten- 
tion of  himself  and  companion.  The  tall  flag,  known  among 
whalers  by  the  name  of  "  whift,"  was  not  the  only  evidence 
of  the  manner  in  which  the  cachalot  had  met  its  death. 
Two  large  harpoons  were  seen  sticking  out  of  its  side,  their 
iron  arrows  buried  up  to  the  socket  in  its  blubber ;  while 
from  the  thick  wooden  shanks,  protruding  beyond  the  skin, 
were  lines  extending  into  the  water,  at  the  ends  of  which 
were  large  blocks  of  wood  floating  like  buoys  upon  the 
surface  of  the  sea. 

Ben  identified  the  latter  as  the  "  drogues,"  that  form  part 
of  the  equipment  of  a  regular  whale-ship.  He  knew  them 
well,  and  their  use.  Before  becoming  a  man-o'-war's-man, 
he  had  handled  the  harpoon  ;  and  was  perfectly  au  fait  to 
all  connected  with  the  calling  of  a  whaler. 

"Yes,"  resumed  he,  on  recognizing  the  implements  of  his 
ri-devant  profession,  "it  ha'  been  jest  as  I  said.  A  whaler's 
been  over  this  ground,  and  killed  the  spermacety.  Maybe 
I  'm  wrong  about  that,"  he  added,  after  reflecting  a  short 
while.  "I  may  be  wrong  about  the  ship  being  over  this 
very  ground.  I  don't  like  the  look  o'  them  drogues." 

"  De  drogue  ?  "  inquired  the  Coromantee.     "  Dem  block 


214  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

»'  wood  dat  am  driffin'  about?  Wha'  for  you  no  like  den\ 
Massa  Brace?" 

"  But  for  their  bein'  thear  I  could  say  for  sartiu  a  ship 
had  been  here." 

"  Must  a'  been !  "  asserted  Snowball.  "  If  no',  how  you 
count  for  de  presence  ob  de  flag  and  de  hapoons  ?  " 

"  Ah !  "  answered  the  sailor,  with  something  like  a  sigh ; 
"they  kud  a'  got  thear,  without  the  men  as  throwed  'em 
bein'  anywhere  near  this.  You  know  nothin'  o'  whalin', 
Snowy." 

This  speech  put  Snowball  hi  a  quandary. 

"  You  see,  nigger,"  continued  the  sailor,  "  tne  presence 
o'  them  drogues  indercates  that  the  whale  war  n't  dead  when 
the  boats  left  her."  (The  ci-devant  whaler  followed  the 
fashion  of  his  former  associates,  in  speaking  of  the  whale, 
among  whom  the  epicene  gender  of  the  animal  is  always 
feminine.)  "  She  must  a'  been  still  alive,"  continued  he, 
"  and  the  drogues  were  put  thear  to  hinder  her  from  niakin 
much  way  through  the  water.  In  coorse  there  must  a'  been 
a  school  o'  the  spermacetys ;  and  the  crew  o'  the  whaler 
did  n't  want  to  lose  time  with  this  'un,  which  they  had 
wounded.  For  that  reason  they  have  struck  her  with  this 
pair  o'  drogued  harpoons ;  and  stuck  this  whift  into  her 
back.  On  fust  seein'  that,  I  war  inclined  to  think  different. 
You  see  the  whift  be  stickin'  a'most  straight  up,  an'  how 
could  that  a'  been  done  by  them  in  the  boats?  If  the 
«rhale  had  n't  a'  been  dead,  nobody  would  a'  dared  to  a 
elombed  on  to  her  an'  fix  the  flag  that  way." 

"  You  are  right  dar,"  interrupted  Snowball. 

"No,"  rejoined  the  sailor,  "I  ain't.  I  thought  I  war; 
bnt  I  war  wrong,  as  you  be  now,  Snowy.  You  see  the 
flag-spear  ain't  straight  into  the  back  o'  the  anymal.  It  'fl 
to  one  side,  though  it  now  stand  nearly  on  top ;  because  the 
body  o'  the  whale  be  canted  over  a  bit.  A  first-rate  '  headi- 
man  o'  a  whale-boat  could  easily  a'  throwed  it  that  way 


ABOARD  THE  BODY   OF  A   WHALE.  2U 

from  the  bottom  o  his  boat,  and  that 's  the  way  it  ha'  been 
done." 

"  Spose  'im  hab  been  jest  dat  way,"  assented  Snowball. 
*  But  wha'  matter  'bout  dat  ?  De  whale  ham  been  kill  all 
de  same." 

"  What  matter  ?     Everything  do  it  matter." 

"  'Splain,  Massa  Brace  !  " 

"  Don't  ye  see,  nigger,  that  if  the  spermacety  had  been 
despatched  while  the  boats  were  about  it,  it  would  prove 
that  the  whale-ship  must  a'  been  here  while  they  were  a 
killin'  the  creature ;  an'  that  would  go  far  to  prove  that  she 
could  n't  be  a  great  ways  off  now." 

"  So  dat  wud,  —  so  im  wud,  fo'  sa'tin  sure." 

"  Well,  Snowy,  as  the  case  stands,  thear  be  no  sartinty 
where  the  whaler  be  at  this  time.  The  anymal,  after  being 
drogued,  may  a'  sweemed  many  a  mile  from  the  place  where 
she  war  first  harpooned.  I  Ve  knowed  'em  to  go  a  score  o' 
knots  afore  they  pulled  up ;  an'  this  bein'  a'  old  bull,  — 
one  o'  the  biggest  spermacetys  I  ever  see,  —  she  must  a' 
sweemed  to  the  full  o'  that  distance  afore  givin'  in.  If 
that 's  been  so,  thear  ain't  much  chance  o'  eyther  her  or  we 
bein'  overhauled  by  the  whaler." 

As  the  sailor  ceased  speaking  he  once  more  directed  his 
glance  over  the  ocean  ;  which,  after  another  minute  and 
careful  scrutiny  of  the  horizon,  fell  back  upon  the  body  of 
the  whale,  with  the  same  expression  of  disappointment  thai 
before  had  been  observable. 


216  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

CHAPTER    LX. 

A   CURIOUS    CUISINE. 

DURING  all  that  day,  the  sailor  and  the  ex -cook  of  th« 
Pandora  kept  watch  from  the  summit  of  the  dead 
cacftalot. 

It  was  not  altogether  for  this  purpose  they  remained 
there,  —  since  the  mast  of  the  Catamaran  would  have  given 
them  an  observatory  of  equal  and  even  greater  elevation. 

There  were  several  reasons  why  they  did  not  cast  off 
from  the  carcass,  and  continue  their  westward  course :  the 
most  important  being  the  hope  that  the  destroyers  of  the 
whale  might  return  to  take  possession  of  the  valuable  prize 
which  they  had  left  behind  them. 

There  was,  moreover,  an  undefined  feeling  of  security  in 
lying  alongside  the  leviathan,  —  almost  as  great  as  they 
might  have  felt  if  anchored  near  the  beach  of  an  actual 
island,  —  and  this  had  some  influence  in  protracting  their 
stay. 

But  there  was  yet  another  motive  which  would  of  itself 
have  caused  them  to  remain  at  their  present  moorings  for  a 
considerable  period  of  time. 

During  the  intervals  of  their  protracted  vigil,  they  had 
not  been  inattentive  to  the  objects  immediately  around  them: 
and  the  carcass  of  the  whale  had  come  in  for  a  share  of 
their  consideration.  A  consultation  had  been  held  upon  it, 
which  had  resulted  in  a  determination  not  to  leave  the  le- 
viathan until  they  had  rendered  its  remains,  or  at  least  a 
portion  of  them,  useful  for  some  future  end. 

The  old  whaleman  knew  that  under  that  dark  epidermis 
over  which,  for  two  days,  they  had  been  recklessly  treading, 
there  were  many  valuable  substances  that  might  be  made 
available  to  theii  use  and  comfort,  on  board  the  Catamaran. 


A  CURIOUS  CUISINE.  217 

First,  there  was  the  "  blubber,"  which,  if  boiled  or  "  tried," 
irould,  from  the  body  of  an  old  bull  like  that,  yield,  at  the 
very  least,  a  hundred  barrels  of  oil. 

This  they  cared  nothing  about :  since  they  had  neither  tho 
jots  to  boil,  the  casks  to  hold,  nor  the  craft  tr  carry  it, — 
even  if  rendered  into  oil  for  the  market. 

But  Ben  knew  that  within  the  skull  of  the  cachalot  there 
was  a  deposit  of  pure  sperm,  that  needed  no  preparation, 
which  would  be  found  of  service  to  them  in  a  way  they  had 
already  thought  of. 

This  sperm  could  be  reached  by  simply  removing  the 
"junk"  which  forms  the  exterior  portion  of  a  cachalot's  huge 
snout,  and  sinking  a  shaft  into  the  skull.  Here  would,  or 
should,  be  found  a  cavity  filled  with  a  delicate  cellular  tissue, 
containing  ten  or  a  dozen  large  barrels  full  of  the  purest 
spermaceti. 

They  did  not  stand  in  need  of  anything  like  this  quantity. 
A  couple  of  casks  would  suffice  for  their  need ;  and  these 
they  desired  to  obtain  for  that  want  which  had  suggested 
itself  to  both  Snowball  and  the  sailor.  They  had  been  long 
suffering  from  the  absence  of  fuel,  —  not  wherewith  to  warm 
themselves,  —  but  as  a  means  of  enabling  them  to  cook  their 
food.  They  need  suffer  no  longer.  With  the  spermaceti  to 
be  extracted  from  the  "  case  "  of  the  cachalot,  they  could  lay 
in  a  stock  that  would  last  them  for  many  a  day.  They  had 
their  six  casks,  —  five  of  them  still  empty.  By  using  a 
couple  of  them  to  contain  the  oil,  the  raft  would  still  be 
sufficiently  buoyant  to  carry  all  hands,  and  not  a  bit  less 
worthy  of  the  sea. 

Both  of  these  brave  men  had  observed  the  repugnance 
with  which  Lilly  Lalee  partook  of  their  raw  repasts.  Nothing 
but  hunger  enabled  her  to  eat  what  they  could  set  before 
her.  It  had  touched  the  feelings  of  both  ;  and  rendered 
them  desirous  of  providing  her  with  some  kind  of  food 
more  congenial  to  the  delicate  palate  of  the  child. 
10 


218  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

Long  before  they  had  any  intention  of  abandoning  th« 
dead  body  of  the  whale,  —  in  fact  shortly  after  taking  pos- 
session of  it,  —  Ben  Brace,  assisted  by  Snowball  and  little 
William,  —  the  latter  having  also  mounted  upon  the  mon- 
oter's  back,  —  cut  open  the  great  cavity  of  the  "  case  "  with 
the  axe ;  and  then  inserting  a  large  tin  pot,  —  which  had 
turned  up  in  the  sailor's  sea-kit,  —  drew  it  out  again  full 
of  liquid  spermaceti. 

This  was  carried  down  to  the  deck  of  the  Catamaran^ 
when  the  process  of  making  a  fire  was  instantly  proceeded 
with. 

By  means  of  some  untwisted  strands  of  tarry  rope,  in- 
geniously inserted  into  the  oil,  the  pot  was  converted  into  a 
sort  of  open  lamp,  —  which  only  required  to  be  kindled  into 
a  flame. 

But  Ben  Brace  had  not  been  smoking  a  pipe  for  a  period 
of  nearly  thirty  years,  without  being  provided  with  the 
means  of  lighting  it.  In  the  same  depository  from  which 
the  tin  pot  had  been  obtained  was  found  the  proper  imple- 
ments for  striking  a  light,  —  flint,  steel,  and  tinder,  —  and, 
as  the  latter,  within  the  water-tight  compartment  of  the 
man-o'-war's-man's  chest,  having  been  preserved  perfectly 
dry,  there  was  no  difficulty  in  setting  fire  to  the  oil. 

It  was  soon  seen  burning  up  over  the  rim  of  the  pot  with 
a  bright  clear  flame ;  and  a  large  flake  of  the  dried  fish 
being  held  over  the  blaze,  in  a  very  short  space  of  time  be- 
came done  to  a  turn. 

This  furnished  all  of  them  with  a  meal  much  more  palafr 
able  than  any  they  had  eaten  since  they  had  been  forced  to 
flee  from  the  decks  of  the  burning  Pandcra. 


AN  ASSEMBLY  OF  SHARKS.  219 

CHAPTER   LXI. 

AN  ASSEMBLY   OF  SHAEKS. 

AS  the  spermaceti  in  the  pot  still  continued  to  blaze  up, 
—  the  wick  not  yet  having  burnt  out,  —  il  occurred 
to  Snowball  to  continue  his  culinary  operations,  and  broil  a 
Bufficient  quantity  of  the  dead  fish  to  serve  for  supper.  The 
ex-cook,  unlike  most  others  of  his  calling,  did  not  like  to  see 
his  fuel  idly  wasted :  and  therefore,  in  obedience  to  the 
thought  that  had  suggested  itself,  he  brought  forth  another 
flake  of  shark  flesh,  and  submitted  to  the  flames,  as  before. 

While  observing  him  in  the  performance  of  this  pi  evident 
task,  a  capital  idea  also  occurred  to  Ben  Brace.  Since  it 
was  possible  thus  to  cook  their  supper  in  advance,  why  not 
also  their  breakfast  for  the  following  morning,  then  dinner 
for  the  day,  their  supper  of  to-morrow  night,  —  in  short,  all 
the  raw  provisions  which  they  had  on  their  hands  ?  By 
doing  this,  not  only  would  a  fire  be  no  longer  necessary,  but 
the  fish  so  cooked,  —  or  even  thoroughly  dried  in  the  blaze 
and  smoke,  —  would  be  likely  to  keep  better.  In  fact,  fish 
thus  preserved,  —  as  is  often  done  with  herrings,  ling,  cod- 
fish, mackerel,  and  haddock,  —  will  remain  good  for  months 
without  suffering  the  slightest  taint  of  decomposition.  It 
was  an  excellent  idea;  and,  Ben  having  communicated  it 
to  the  others,  it  was  at  once  determined  that  it  should  be 
carried  out 

There  was  no  fear  of  their  running  short  in  the  staple 
article  of  fuel.  Ben  assured  them  that  the  "  case "  of  a 
cachalot  of  the  largest  size, — such  as  the  one  beside  them, — 
often  contained  five  hundred  gallons  of  the  liquid  sper- 
maceti !  Besides,  there  was  the  enormous  quantity  of  junk 
and  blubber,  —  whole  mountains  of  it,  —  both  of  which 
eould  be  rendered  into  oil  by  a  process  which  the  whalen 


220  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

term  "trying."  Other  inflammable  substances,  too,  are 
found  in  the  carcass  of  the  sperm-whale :  so  that,  in  the 
article  of  fuel,  the  crew  of  the  Catamaran  had  been  unex- 
pectedly furnished  with  a  stock  by  which  they  might  keep 
up  a  blazing  lire  for  the  whole  of  a  twelvemonth. 

It  was  no  longer  any  scarcity  of  fuel  that  could  hinder 
them  from  cooking  on  a  large  scale,  but  a  scantiness  of  the 
provisions  to  be  cooked ;  and  they  were  now  greatly  troubled 
at  the  thought  of  their  larder  having  got  so  low. 

While  Ben  Brace  and  Snowball  stood  pondering  upon 
thia,  and  mjtually  murmuring  their  regrets,  a  thought  sud- 
denly came  into  the  mind  of  the  sailor  which  was  calculated 
to  give  comfort  to  all. 

"  As  for  the  provisions  in  our  locker,"  said  he,  "  we  can 
easily  'plenish  them,  such  as  they  be.     Look  there,  nigger 
There  be  enough  raw  meat  to  keep  ye  a'  cookin'  till  your 
wool  grows  white." 

The  sailor,  as  he  said  this,  simply  nodded  toward  the 
sea. 

It  needed  no  further  pointing  out  to  understand  what  he 
meant  by  the  phrase  "  raw  meat."  Scores  of  sharks,  —  both 
of  the  blue  and  white  species,  —  attended  by  their  pilots 
and  suckers,  were  swimming  around  the  carcass  of  the 
cachalot.  The  sea  seemed  alive  with  them.  Scarce  a  square 
rod,  within  a  circle  of  several  hundred  fathoms'  circumfer- 
ence, that  did  not  exhibit  their  stiff,  wicked-looking  dorsal 
fins  cutting  sharply  above  the  surface. 

Of  course  the  presence  of  the  dead  whale  accounted  for 
this  unusual  concourse  of  the  tyrants  of  the  deep.  Not  that 
they  had  any  intention  of  directing  their  attack  upon  it: 
for,  from  the  peculiar  conformation  of  his  mouth,  the  shark 
is  incapable  of  feeding  upon  the  carcass  of  a  large  whale. 
But  having,  no  doubt,  accompanied  the  chase  at  the  time 
the  cachalot  had  been  harpooned,  they  were  now  staying  by 
a  dead  body,  from  an  instinct  that  told  them  its  destroyer* 


AN   ASSEMBLY  OF  SHARKS  221 

would  return,  and  supply  them  with  its  flesh  m  convenient 
morsels,  —  while  occupied  in  flensing  it. 

"  Ugh ! "  exclaimed  the  sailor ;  "  they  look  hungry  enough 
to  bite  at  any  bait  we  may  throw  out  to  them.  We  won't 
have  much  trouble  in  catchin'  as  many  o'  'em  as  we  want." 

"  A  doan  b'lieve,  Massa  Brace,  we  hab  got  nebba  such  a 
ting  as  a  shark-hook  'board  de  Cat'maran" 

u  Don't  make  yourself  uneasy  'bout  that,"  rejoined  the 
sailor,  in  a  confident  tone.  "  Shark-hook  be  blowed !  I  see 
somethin'  up  yonder  worth  a  score  o'  shark-hooks.  The 
brutes  be  as  tame  as  turtles  turned  on  their  backs.  They  're 
always  so  about  a  dead  spermacety.  Wi'  one  o'  them  ere 
tools  as  be  stickin'  in  the  side  o'  the  old  bull,  if  I  don't  pull 
«,  f'ew-o'  them  out  o'  water,  I  never  handled  a  harpoon,  that 's 
all.  Ye  may  stop  your  cookin'  Snowy,  an'  go  help  me. 
When  we  've  got  a  few  sharks  catched  an'  cut  up,  then  you 
can  go  at  it  again  on  a  more  'stensive  scale.  Come  along, 
my  hearty  ! " 

As  Ben  terminated  his  speech,  he  strode  across  the  deck 
of  the  raft,  and  commenced  clambering  up  on  the  carcass. 

Snowball,  who  perceived  the  wisdom  of  his  old  comrade's 
design,  let  go  the  flake  of  fish  he  had  been  holding  in  the 
blase;  and,  parting  from  the  pot,  once  mare  followed  th« 
v-p  the  wt^ep  side  ci  the  Cachalot. 


222  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

CHAPTER    LXII. 

A    DANGEROUS    EQUILIBRIUM. 

BEN  had  taken  along  with  him  the  axe ;  and,  proceed 
ing  towards  one  of  the  harpoons,  —  still  buried  in  tb  i 
body  of  the  whale,  —  he  commenced  cutting  it  out. 

In  a  few  moments  a  deep  cavity  was  hewn  out  around 
the  shank  of  the  harpoon ;  which  was  further  deepened, 
until  the  barbed  blade  was  wellnigh  laid  bare.  Snowball, 
impatiently  seizing  the  stout  wooden  shaft,  gave  it  a  hercu- 
lean pluck,  that  completely  detached  the  arrow  from  the  soft 
blubber  in  which  it  had  been  imbedded. 

Unfortunately  for  Snowball,  he  had  not  well  calculated 
the  strength  required  for  clearing  that  harpoon.  Having 
already  made  several  fruitless  attempts  to  extract  it,  he  did 
not  expect  it  to  draw  out  so  easily ;  and,  in  consequence  of 
his  making  an  over-effort,  his  balance  became  deranged  ; 
his  feet,  ill-planted  upon  the  slippery  skin,  flew  simultane- 
ously from  beneath  him ;  and  he  came  down  upon  the  side 
of  the  leviathan  with  a  loud  "  slap,"  —  similar  to  what  might 
have  been  heard  had  he  fallen  upon  half-thawed  ice. 

Unpleasant  as  this  mishap  may  have  been,  it  was  not  the 
worst  that  might  have  befallen  him  on  that  occasion.  Nor 
was  it  the  fall  itself  that  caused  him  to  "  sing  out"  at  the  top 
of  his  voice,  and  in  accents  betokening  a  terrible  alarm. 

What  produced  this  manifestation  was  a  peril  of  far  more 
fearful  kind,  which  at  the  moment  menaced  him. 

The  spot  where  the  harpoon  had  been  sticking  was  in  the 
side  of  the  cachalot,  and,  as  the  carcass  lay,  a  broad  space 
around  the  weapon  presented  an  inclined  plane,  sloping 
abruptly  towards  the  water.  Lubricated  as  it  was  with  the 
secreted  oil  of  the  animal,  it  was  smooth  as  glass.  Upon 
this  slope  Snowball  had  been  standing ;  and  upon  -'t  had  M 
(alien. 


A  DANGEROUS  EQUILIBRIUM.  223 

But  the  impetus  of  the  fall  not  only  hindered  him  from 
lying  where  he  had  gone  down,  but  also  from  being  able  to 
get  up  again  ;  and,  instead  of  doing  either  one  or  the  other, 
ha  commenced  sliding  down  the  slippery  surface  of  the  levi- 
athan's body,  where  it  shelved  towards  the  water. 

Good  heavens !  what  was  to  become  of  him  ?  A  score  of 
sharks  were  just  below,  —  waiting  for  him  with  hungry  jaws, 
and  eyes  glancing  greedily  upward.  Seeing  the  two  men 
mounted  upon  the  carcass  of  the  whale,  and  one  wielding 
an  axe,  they  had  gathered  upon  that  side,  —  in  the  belief 
that  the  flensing  was  about  to  begin !  ' 

it  was  a  slight  circumstance  that  saved  the  sea-cook  from 
being  eaten  up,  —  not  only  raw,  but  alive.  Simply  the  cir- 
cumstance of  his  having  held  on  to  the  harpoon.  Had  he 
dropped  that  weapon  on  falling,  it  would  never  have  been 
grasped  by  him  again.  Fortunately,  he  had  the  presence 
of  mind  to  hold  on  to  it ;  or  perhaps  the  tenacity  was  merely 
mechanical.  Whatever  may  have  been  the  reason,  he  did 
hold  on.  Fortunately,  also,  he  was  gliding  down  on  the  side 
opposite  to  that  on  which  floated  the  "  drogue." 

These  two  circumstances  saved  him. 

When  about  half-way  to  the  water,  —  and  still  sliding 
/apidly  downwards,  —  his  progress  was  suddenly  arrested, 
or  rather  impeded,  —  for  he  was  not  altogether  brought  to  a 
stop,  —  by  a  circumstance  as  unexpected  as  it  was  fortunate. 
That  was  the  tightening  of  the  line  attached  to  the  handle 
of  the  harpoon.  He  had  slidden  to  the  end  of  his  tether,  - — 
the  other  end  of  which  was  fast  to  the  drogue  drifting  about 
in  the  sea,  as  already  said,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  car- 
cass. 

Heavy  as  was  the  piece  of  wood,  —  and  offering,  as  il 
did,  a  considerable  amount  of  resistance  in  being  dragged 
through  the  water,  —  it  would  not  have  been  sufficient  to 
sustain  the  huge  body  of  the  Coromantee.  It  only  checked 
the  rapidity  of  his  descent ;  and  in  the  end  he  would  have 


224  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

gont  down  into  the  sea,  —  and  shortly  after  into  the  stomachs 
of,  perhaps,  half  a  score  of  sharks,  —  but  for  the  opportune 
interference  of  the  ex-inan-o'-war's-man ;  who,  just  in  the 
nick  of  time,  —  at  the  very  moment  when  Snowball's  toes 
were  within  six  inches  of  the  water's  edge,  caught  hold  of 
the  cord  and  arrested  his  farther  descent. 

But  although  the  sailor  had  been  able  to  accomplish  this 
itach,  and  was  also  able  to  keep  Snowball  from  slipping 
farther  down,  he  soon  discovered  that  he  was  unable  to  pull 
him  up  again.  It  was  just  as  much  as  his  strength  was 
equal  to,  —  even  when  supplemented  by  the  weight  of  the 
drogue,  —  to  keep  the  sea-cook  in  the  place  where  he  had 
succeeded  in  checking  him.  There  hung  Snowball  in  sus- 
pense, —  holding  on  to  the  slippery  skin  of  the  cachalot,  lit- 
erally "  with  tooth  and  toe-nail." 

Snowball  saw  that  his  position  was  perilous, — more  than 
that:  it  was  frightful.  He  could  hear  noises  beneath  him, — 
the  rushing  of  the  sharks  through  the  water.  He  glanced 
ipprehensively  below.  He  could  see  their  black  triangular 
fins,  and  note  the  lurid  gleaming  of  their  eyeballs,  as  they 
rolled  in  their  sunken  sockets.  It  was  a  sight  to  terrify  the 
stoutest  heart ;  and  that  of  Snowball  did  not  escape  being 
terrified. 

"  Hole  on,  Massa  Brace ! "  he  instinctively  shouted. 
"  Hole  on,  fo'  de  lub  o'  God !  Doan't  leab  me  slip  an  inch, 
or  dese  dam  brute  sure  cotch  hold  ob  me  !  Fo'  de  lub  o'  de 
great  Gorramity,  hole  on ! " 

Ben  needed  not  the  stimulus  of  this  pathetic  appeal.  He 
was  holding  on  to  the  utmost  of  his  strength.  He  could  not 
have  added  another  pound  to  the  pull.  He  dared  not  even 
renew  either  Lis  attitude,  or  the  grip  he  had  upon  the  rope. 
The  slightest  movement  he  might  make  would  endanger  the 
life  of  his  black-skinned  comrade. 

A  slackening  of  the  cord,  even  to  the  extent  of  twelve 
Inches,  would  have  been  fatal  to  the  feet  of  Snowbal^— • 


A  DANGEROUS  EQUILIBRIUM.  225 

already  within  six  of  the  surface  of  the  water  and  the  snouta 
of  the  sharks ! 

Perhaps  never  in  all  his  checkered  career  had  the  life  of 
the  negro  been  suspended  in  such  dangerous  balance.  The 
slightest  circumstance  would  have  disturbed  the  equilibrium, 

—  an  ounce  would  have  turned  the  scale,  —  and  delivered 
him  into  the  jaws  of  death. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  conjecture  what  would  ulti- 
mately have  been  the  end  of  this  perilous  adventure,  had 
the  sailor  and  sea-cook  been  permitted  to  terminate  it  be- 
tween themselves.  The  strength  of  the  former  was  each 
instant  decreasing ;  while  the  weight  of  the  latter,  —  now 
more  feebly  clinging  to  the  slippery  epidermis  of  the  whale, 

—  was  in  like  proportion  becoming  greater. 

With  nothing  to  intervene,  the  result  might  be  easily 
guessed.  In  figurative  parlance  Snowball  must  have  "gone 
overboard." 

But  his  time  was  not  yet  come ;  and  his  comrade  knew 
this,  when  a  pair  of  hands,  —  small,  but  strong  ones,  —  were 
seen  grasping  the  cord,  alongside  of  his  own.  They  were  the 
hands  of  «  Little  Will'm!" 

At  the  earliest  moment,  after  Snowball  had  slipped  and 
fallen,  the  lad  had  perceived  his  peril ;  and  "  swarming "  up 
by  the  flipper  of  the  whale,  had  hurried  to  the  assistance  of 
Ben,  laying  hold  of  the  rope,  —  not  one  second  too  soon. 

It  was  soon  enough,  however,  to  save  the  suspended  Coro 
mantee ;  whose  body,  now  yielding  to  the  united  strength  of 
the  two,  was  drawn  up  the  slippery  slope,  —  slowly,  bu* 
•urely,  —  until  it  rested  upon  the  broad  horizontal  spac* 
around  the  summit  of  thai  mountain  of  bones  and  blubber 


226  THE   OCEAN   WAIFS. 

CHAPTER    LXIII. 

A   HARPOON   WELL    HANDLED. 

IT  was  some  time  before  either  his  breath  or  the  tranquil 
lity  of  his  spirits  was  restored  to  the  Coromantee. 

The  sailor  was  equally  suffering  from  the  loss  of  the  for- 
mer ;  and  both  remained  for  a  good  many  minutes  without 
taking  any  further  steps  towards  the  accomplishment  of  the 
design  which  had  brought  them  on  the  back  of  the  whale. 

As  soon,  however,  as  Snowball  could  find  wind  enough 
for  a  few  words,  they  were  uttered  in  a  tone  of  gratitude,  — 
first  to  Ben,  who  had  hindered  him  from  sinking  down  into 
something  worse  than  a  watery  grave ;  and  then  to  little 
William,  who  had  aided  in  raising  him  up  from  it. 

Ben  less  regarded  the  old  comrade  whom  he  had  rescued 
than  the  young  one  who  had  been  instrumental  in  aiding 
him. 

He  stood  gazing  upon  the  youth  with  eyes  that  expressed 
a  lively  satisfaction. 

"  The  promptitude  and  prowess  which  his  protege  had  ex- 
hibited in  the  affair  was  to  him  a  source  of  the  greatest 
gratification. 

Many  a  boy  old  as  he,  —  ay,  older,  thought  Ben  Brace, 
—  instead  of  having  the  sense  shown  by  the  lad  in  promptly 
running  to  the  rescue,  would  have  remained  upon  the  raft  in 
mute  surprise ;  or,  at  the  best,  have  evinced  tis  sympathy 
by  a  series  of  unserviceable  shouts,  or  a  contir  ued  and  idle 
ecreaming. 

Ben  did  not  wish  to  spoil  his  protege  by  any  spoken  for- 
mula of  praise,  and  therefore  he  said  nothing  :  though,  from 
his  glances  directed  towards  little  William,  it  was  easy  to 
see  that  the  bosom  of  the  brave  tar  was  swelling  with  a  fond 
pride  in  the  youth,  for  whom  he  had  long  felt  an  affection 
almost  equalling  that  of  a  father. 


A  HARPOON  WELL  HANDLED.         227 

After  indulging  a  short  while  in  the  mutual  congratula- 
tions that  naturally  follow  such  a  crisis  of  danger,  all  three 
proceeded  to  the  execution  of  the  duty  so  unexpectedly  in 
terrupted. 

William  had  succeeded  Snowball  in  that  simple  culinary 
operation  which  the  latter,  commanded  by  his  captain,  had 
BO  suddenly  relinquished. 

The  lad  now  returned  to  the  raft,  partly  to  complete  the 
process  of  broiling  the  fish ;  but  perhaps  with  a  greater  de- 
sire to  tranquillize  the  fears  of  Lilly  Lalee,  —  who,  ignorant 
of  the  exact  upshot  of  what  had  transpired,  was  yet  in  a  state 
of  unpleasant  agitation. 

Ben  only  waited  for  the  return  of  his  breath;  and  as 
soon  as  that  was  fairly  restored  to  him,  he  once  more  set 
about  the  design  that  had  caused  him  for  the  second  time  to 
climb  upon  the  back  of  the  cachalot. 

Taking  the  harpoon  from  the  hands  of  the  Corowantee, — 
who  still  kept  clutching  it,  as  if  there  was  danger  in  letting 
it  go,  —  the  sailor  proceeded  to  draw  up  the  drogue 

Assisted  by  Snowball,  he  soon  raised  it  out  of  the  water, 
and  hoisted  it  to  the  horizontal  platform,  on  which  th^y  had 
placed  themselves. 

He  did  not  want  the  block  of  wood  just  then,  —  only  the 
line  tied  to  it ;  and  this  having  been  detached,  the  drogue 
was  left  lying  upon  the  carcass. 

Armed  with  the  harpoon,  the  ci-devant  whaleman  now 
took  a  survey,  —  not  of  the  land,  but  of  the  sea  around 
him. 

There  was  an  assemblage  of  sharks  close  in  to  the  body 
of  the  whale,  —  at  the  spot  where  they  had  so  lately  threat- 
ened Snowball. 

Some  ot  them  had  since  scattered  away,  with  a  full  con- 
sciousness of  their  disappointment;  but  the  greater  number 
had  stayed,  as  if  unsatisfied,  or  expecting  that  the  banquet 
that  had  been  so  near  their  noses  might  be  brought  back  to 
them. 


228  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

Ben's  purpose  was  to  harpoon  some  Lalf-dozen  of  these 
ill-featured  denizens  of  the  deep,  and  with  their  flesh  replen- 
ish the  stores  of  the  Catamaran;  for  repulsive  as  the 
brutes  may  appear  to  the  eye,  and  repugnant  to  the 
thoughts,  they  nevertheless,  —  that  is,  certain  species  of 
them,  and  certain  parts  of  these  species,  —  afford  excellent 
food :  such  as  an  epicure,  —  to  say  nothing  of  a  man  half- 
famished, —  may  eat  with  sufficient  relish. 

There  could  have  been  no  difficulty  in  destroying  any  of 
the  sharks  so  late  threatening  to  swallow  Snowball,  had  the 
harpooner  been  able  to  get  within  striking  distance  of  them. 
But  the  slippery  skin  of  the  whale  deterred  the  sailor  from 
trusting  himself  on  that  dangerous  incline;  and  he  deter- 
mined, therefore,  to  try  elsewhere. 

In  the  direction  of  the  cachalot's  tail  the  descent  was 
gradual.  Scarcely  perceptible  was  its  declination  towards 
the  water,  upon  which  lay  the  two  great  flukes,  slightly 
sunk  below  the  surface,  and  extending  on  each  side  to  a 
breadth  of  many  yards. 

There  were  several  sharks  playing  around  the  tail  of  the 
cachalot.  They  might  come  within  the  pitch  of  a  harpoon. 
If  not,  the  old  whaleman  knew  how  to  attract  them  within 
easy  reach  of  that  formidable  weapon. 

Directing  Snowball  to  bring  after  him  some  of  the  pieces 
of  blubber, —  which,  in  cutting  out  the  harpoon,  had  been 
detached  from  the  carcass,  —  Ben  proceeded  towards  the 
tail.  Here  and  there  as  he  advanced,  with  the  sharp  edge 
of  the  harpoon  blade,  he  cut  out  a  number  of  ho'es  in  the 
spongy  skin,  in  order  to  give  both  himself  and  his  follower 
a  more  sure  footing  on  the  slimy  surface. 

At  the  point  where  he  intended  to  take  his  stand,  —  close 
in  by  the  "  crutch "  of  the  cachalot's  tail-fin,  —  he  made 
three  excavations  with  more  care.  At  length,  satisfied  with 
his  preparations,  he  stood,  with  pointed  harpoon,  waiting  for 
one  of  the  sharks  to  come  within  striking  distance.  The'} 


A  HARPOON  WELL  HANDLED.  229 

*  fought  shy "  at  first ;  but  the  old  whaleman  knew  a  way 
of  overcoming  their  shyness.  It  only  required  that 
"chunk"  of  blubber,  held  in  the  hands  of  Snowball,  to 
be  thrown  into  the  water,  and  simultaneous  with  the  plunge 
a  score  of  sharks  would  be  seen  rushing,  open-mouthed,  to 
seize  upon  it. 

This  in  effect  was  precisely  what  transpired. 

The  blubber  was  dropped  into  the  sea,  close  as  possible 
to  the  carcass  of  the  whale,  —  the  sharks  came  charging 
towards  it,  —  nearly  twenty  of  them.  The  same  number, 
however,  did  not  go  back  as  they  had  come ;  for  one  of 
them,  impaled  by  the  harpoon  of  Ben  Brace,  was  dragged 
out  of  his  native  element,  and  hauled  up  the  well-greased 
incline  towards  the  highest  point  on  the  carcass  of  the 
cachalot. 

There,  notwithstanding  his  struggles  and  the  desperate  aa 
well  as  dangerous  fluking  of  his  posterior  fins,  he  was  soon 
despatched  by  the  axe,  wielded  with  all  the  might  and  dex- 
terity which  the  Coromantee  could  command. 

Another  shark  was  "  hooked,"  and  then  despatched  in  a 
similar  fashion ;  and  then  another  and  another,  until  Ben 
Brace  believed  that  enough  shark-flesh  had  been  obtained  to 
furnish  the  Catamaran  with  stores  for  the  most  prolonged 
voyage. 

At  all  events,  they  would  now  have  food  —  such  as  it  waa 
—  to  last  as  long  as  the  water  with  which  the  hand  of  Proyi- 
dence  alone  seemed  to  have  provided  them. 


230  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

CHAPTER    LXIV. 

THE   THICK    WATERS. 

TJHE  most  palatable  portions  of  the  sharks'  flesh  having 
been  stripped  from  the  bones  and  cut  into  thin  slices, 
were  now  to  be  submitted  to  a  drying,  or  rather  broiling 
process.     This  was  to  be  accomplished  by  a  fire  of  sper- 
maceti. 

As  already  stated,  there  was  no  scarcity  on  the  score  of 
this  fuel.  The  "  case "  of  the  cachalot  contained  enough 
to  have  roasted  all  the  sharks  within  a  circle  of  ten  miles 
around  it ;  and,  to  all  appearance,  there  were  hundreds  of 
them  inside  that  circumference.  Indeed,  that  part  of  the 
ocean  where  the  dead  whale  had  been  found,  though  far 
from  any  land,  is  at  all  times  most  prolific  in  animal  life. 
Sometimes  the  sea  for  miles  around  a  ship  will  be  seen 
swarming  with  fish  of  various  kinds,  while  the  air  is  filled 
with  birds.  In  the  water  may  be  seen  large  "  schools "  of 
whales,  "  basking  "  —  as  the  whalers  term  it  —  at  intervals, 
"spouting"  forth  their  vaporous  breath,  or  moving  slowly 
onward,  —  some  of  them,  every  now  and  then,  exhibiting 
their  uncouth  gambols.  Shoals  of  porpoises,  albacores,  bo- 
nitos,  and  other  gregarious  fishes  will  appear  in  the  same 
place,  —  each  kind  in  pursuit  of  its  favorite  prey,  while 
sharks,  threshers,  and  sword-fish,  accompanied  by  their 
"  pilots "  and  "  suckers,"  though  in  lesser  numbers,  here 
also  abound,  —  from  the  very  abundance  of  the  species  on 
which  these  sea-monsters  subsist.  "Flocks"  of  flying-fish 
sparkle  in  the  sun  with  troops  of  bonitos  gliding  watchful 
below,  while  above  them  the  sky  will  sometimes  be  literally 
clouded  with  predatory  birds,  —  gulls,  boobies,  gannets, 
tropic  and  frigate-birds,  albatrosses,  and  a  score  of  other 
kinds  but  little  known,  and  as  yet  undescribed  by  the  nat- 
uralist. 


THE  THICK  WATERS.  231 

It  may  be  asked  why  so  many  creatures  of  different  kinds 
congregate  in  this  part  of  the  ocean  ?  Upon  what  do  they 
subsist  ?  what  food  can  they  find  so  far  from  land  ? 

A  ready  reply  to  these  questions  may  be  given,  by  saying, 
that  they  subsist  upon  each  other  ;  and  this  would  be,  to 
some  extent,  true.  But  then  there  must  be  a  base  forming 
the  food  for  all,  and  produced  by  some  process  of  nature. 
What  process  can  be  going  on  in  the  midst  of  the  ocean  to 
furnish  the  subsistence  of  such  myriads  of  large  and  vora- 
cious creatures  ?  In  the  waters  of  the  great  deep,  appar- 
ently so  pure  and  clear,  one  would  think  that  no  growth,  — 
either  animal  or  vegetable,  could  spring  up,  —  that  nothing 
could  come  out  of  nothing.  For  all  this,  in  that  pure,  clear 
water,  there  is  a  continual  process  of  production,  —  not  only 
from  the  soil  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  but  the  salt  water 
itself  contains  the  germs  of  material  substances,  that  sus- 
tain life,  or  become,  themselves,  living  things,  by  what  ap- 
pears, to  our  ignorant  eyes,  spontaneous  production. 

There  is  no  spontaneity  in  the  matter.  It  is  simply  the 
principle  of  creation,  and  acting  under  laws  and  by  ways 
that,  however  ill-understood  by  us,  have  existed  from  the 
beginning  of  the  world. 

It  is  true  that  the  whole  extent  of  the  great  oceans  ar« 
not  thus  thickly  peopled.  Vast  tracts  may  be  traversed, 
where  both  fish  and  birds  of  all  kinds  are  extremely  scarce  ; 
and  a  ship  may  sail  for  days  without  seeing  an  individual  of 
Cither  kind.  A  hundred  miles  may  be  passed  over,  and  the 
eye  may  not  be  gratified  by  the  sight  of  a  living  thing,  — 
either  in  the  water  or  the  air.  These  tracts  may  truly  be 
termed  the  deserts  of  the  sea ;  like  those  of  the  land,  appar- 
ently uninhabited  and  uninhabitable. 

It  may  be  asked,  Why  this  difference,  since  the  sea  seems 
all  alike  ?  The  cause  lies  not  in  a  difference  of  depth :  for 
the  tracts  that  teem  with  life  are  variable  in  this  respect,  — 
sometimes  only  a  few  fathoms  in  profundity,  and  sometimei 
unfathomable. 


232  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

The  true  explanation  must  be  sought  for  elsewhere.  1< 
will  be  found  not  in  depth,  but  in  direction,  —  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  currents. 

Every  one  knows  that  the  great  oceans  are  intersected 
here  and  there  by  currents,  —  often  hundreds  of  miles  in 
breadth,  but  sometimes  narrowing  to  a  width  of  as  many 
"knots."  These  oceanic  streams  are  regular,  though  not 
regularly  defined.  They  are  not  caused  by  mere  temporary 
storms,  but  by  winds  having  a  constant  and  regular  direc- 
tion ;  as  the  "  trades  "  in  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific,  the  "  mon- 
soons "  in  the  Indian  Ocean,  the  "  pamperos  "  of  South  Amer- 
ica, and  the  "  northers  "  of  the  Mexican  Gulf. 

There  is  another  cause  for  these  currents,  perhaps  of  more 
powerful  influence  than  the  winds,  yet  less  taken  into  ac- 
count. It  is  the  spinning  of  the  earth  on  its  axis.  Un- 
doubtedly are  the  "  trades  "  indebted  to  this  for  their  direc 
tion  towards  the  west,— the  simple  centrifugal  tendency  of 
the  atmosphere.  Otherwise,  would  these  winds  blow  due 
northward  and  southward,  coming  into  collision  on  the  line 
of  the  equator. 

But  it  is  not  my  purpose  to  attempt  a  dissertation  either 
on  winds  or  oceanic  streams.  I  am  not  learned  enough  for 
this,  though  enough  to  know  that  great  misconception  pre- 
vails on  this  subject,  as  well  as  upon  that  of  the  tides ;  and 
that  meteorologists  have  not  given  due  credit  to  the  revolv- 
ing motion  of  our  planet,  which  is  in  truth  the  principal  pro- 
ducer of  these  phenomena. 

"Why  I  have  introduced  the  subject  at  all  is,  not  because 
our  little  book  is  peculiarly  a  book  of  the  ocean,  but,  because 
that  ocean  currents  have  much  to  do  with  "  Ocean  Waifs," 
and  that  these  last  afford  the  true  explanation  of  the  phe- 
nomenon first  mentioned,  —  the  fact  that  some  parts  of  the 
ocean  teem  with  animal  life,  while  others  are  as  dead  as  a 
desert.  The  currents  account  fcr  it,  thus :  —  where  two 
of  them  meet,  —  as  is  often  the  case,  —  vast  quantities  of 


THE  THICK  WATERS.  238 

material  substances,  both  vegetable  and  animal,  are  drifted 
together ;  where  they  are  held,  to  a  certain  extent,  station- 
ary ;  or  circling  around  in  great  ocean  eddies.  The  wrack 
of  sea-weed,  —  waifs  from  the  distant  shores,  —  birds  that 
have  fallen  lifeless  into  the  ocean,  or  drop  their  excrement 
to  float  on  its  surface,  —  fish  that  have  died  of  disease,  vio- 
lence, or  naturally,  —  for  the  finny  tribes  are  not  exempt 
from  the  natural  laws  of  decay  and  death,  —  all  these  organ- 
isms, drifted  by  the  currents,  meet  upon  the  neutral  "  ground," 
• —  there  to  float  about,  and  furnish  food  to  myriads  of  living 
creatures,  —  many  species  of  which  are,  to  all  appearance, 
scarce  organized  more  highly  than  the  decomposed  matters 
that  appear  first  to  give  them  life,  and  afterwards  sustain 
their  existence. 

In  such  tracts  of  the  ocean  are  found  the  lower  marine 
animals,  in  incalculable  numbers ;  the  floating  shell-fish,  as 
Janthina,  ffyalaa,  and  Cleodora  ;  the  sea-lizards,  as  Velellee, 
Porpitce,  and  their  kindred  ;  the  squids,  and  other  mollusks ; 
rjrith  myriads  of  medusas. 

These  are  the  oceanic  regions  known  to  the  sailors  as 
"  thick  waters,"  the  favorite  resort  of  the  whale  and  its  con- 
comitant creatures,  whose  food  they  furnish ;  the  shark,  and 
its  attendants ;  the  dolphins,  porpoises,  sword-  and  flying- 
fish  ;  with  other  denizens  of  the  water ;  and  a  like  vai  »rtty  of 
dwellers  in  the  air,  hovering  above  the  surface,  either  as  the 
enemies  of  those  below,  or  aids  to  assist  tl^ru  in  composing 
the  inscrutable  "  chain  of  destruction." 


&°>*  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

CHAPTER    LXV 

A   WHALE    ON   FIRF,  ! 

PERHAPS  we  have  drifted  too  far  adown  the  currents  of 
the  ocean.  From  our  digression  let  us  return  to  out 
special  "  Waifs."  We  left  them  making  preparations  to  roast 
the  shark-flesh,  —  not  in  single  steaks,  but  in  a  wholesale 
fashion,  —  as  if  they  had  intended  to  prepare  a  "  fish  dinner  " 
for  the  full  crew  of  a  frigate. 

As  already  stated,  fuel  they  had  in  sufficiency ;  or,  at  all 
events,  the  best  of  oil,  that  would  serve  as  such.  The  sper- 
maceti could  not  be  readily  kindled,  nor  its  blaze  kept  up, 
without  wicks.  But  neither  was  there  any  difficulty  about 
this.  There  was  a  quantity  of  old  rope  trash  on  the  raft, 
which  had  been  fished  up  among  the  wreck  of  the  Pandora, 
and  kept  in  case  of  an  emergency.  It  needed  only  to  re- 
store this  to  its  original  state  of  tarry  fibre,  when  they 
would  be  provided  with  wick  enough  to  keep  the  lamp  long 
burning.  It  was  the  lamp  itself,  or  rather  the  cooking  fur- 
nace, that  caused  them  uneasiness.  They  had  none.  The 
tiny  tin  vessel  that  had  already  served  for  a  single  meal 
would  never  do  for  the  grand  roti  they  now  designed  making 
With  it,  along  with  time  and  patience,  they  might  have  ac- 
complished the  task ;  but  time  to  them  was  too  precious  to 
be  so  wasted ;  and  as  to  patience,  —  circumstanced  as  they 
were,  it  could  scarcely  be  expected. 

They  stood  in  great  need  of  a  cooking-stove.  There  waa 
nothing  on  board  the  Catamaran  that  could  be  used  as  a 
substitute.  Indeed,  to  have  kindled  such  a  fire  as  they 
wanted  on  the  raft,  —  without  a  proper  material  for  their 
hearth,  —  would  have  seriously  endangered  the  existence  of 
the  craft ;  and  might  have  terminated  in  a  conflagration. 

It  was  a  dilemma  that  fiad  not  suggested  itself  sooner,  — • 


A   WHALE  ON  FIRE.  235 

that  is,  until  the  shark-steaks  had  been  made  ready  for 
roasting.  Then  it  presented  itself  to  their  contemplation 
in  full  force,  and  apparently  without  any  loophole  to  escape 
from  it. 

What  was  to  be  done  for  a  cooking-stove  ? 

Snowball  sighed  as  he  thought  of  his  caboose,  with  all  its 
paraphernalia  of  pots  and  pans,  —  especially  his  great  cop- 
per, in  which  he  had  been  accustomed  to  boil  mountains  of 
meat  and  oceans  of  pea-soup. 

But  Snowball  was  not  the  individual  to  give  way  to  vain 
regrets,  —  at  least,  not  for  long.  Despite  that  absence  of 
that  superior  intellect,  —  which  flippant  gossips  of  so-called 
"  Social  Science  "  delight  in  denying  to  his  race,,  themselves 
often  less  gifted  than  he,  —  Snowball  was  endowed  with  rare 
ingenuity,  —  especially  in  matters  relating  to  the  cuisine, 
and  in  less  than  ten  minutes  after  the  question  of  a  cooking- 
stove  had  been  started,  the  Coromantee  conceived  the  idea 
of  one  that  might  have  vied  with  any  of  the  various  "  pa- 
tents "  so  loudly  extolled  by  the  ironmongers,  and  yet  not 
so  effective  when  submitted  to  the  test.  At  all  events, 
Snowball's  plan  was  suited  to  the  circumstances  in  which  its 
contriver  was  placed ;  and  perhaps  it  was  the  only  one 
which  the  circumstances  would  have  allowed. 

Unlike  other  inventors,  the  Coromantee  proclaimed  th< 
plan  of  his  invention  as  soon  as  he  had  conceived  it. 

"  Wha'  for  ? "  he  asked,  as  the  idea  shaped  itself  in  his 
skull,  —  "  wha'  for  we  trouble  'bout  a  pot  fo'  burn  de  oil  ?  " 

"  What  for,  Snowy  ! "  echoed  the  sailor,  turning  upon  his 
interrogator  an  expectant  look. 

"  Why  we  no  make  de  fire  up  hya  ?  " 

The  conversation  was  carried  on  upon  the  back  of  the 
whale,  —  where  the  sharks  had  been  butchered  and  cut  up. 

u  Up  here ! "  again  echoed  the  sailor,  still  showing  surprise. 
M  What  matter  whether  it  be  up  here  or  down  theear,  so  long  '• 
we  've  got  no  vessel,  —  n,cyther  pot  nor  pan  ?  " 


236  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

"  Dean  care  a  dam  fo'  neyder,"  responded  the  ex-cook. 
"  I  'se  soon  show  ye,  Mass'  Brace,  how  we  find  vessel,  big 
'nuff  to  hold  all  de  oil  in  de  karkiss  ob  de  ole  cashlot,  as  you 
call  him." 

"  Explain,  nigger,  explain  !  " 

"  Sartin  I  do.  Gib  me  dat  axe.  I  soon  'splain  de  whole 
sarkumstance." 

Ben  passed  the  axe,  which  he  had  been  holding,  into  the 
hands  of  the  Coromantee. 

The  latter,  as  he  had  promised,  soon  made  his  meaning 
clear,  by  setting  to  work  upon  the  carcass  of  the  cachalot^ 
and  with  less  than  a  dozen  blows  of  the  sharp-edged  tool 
hollowing  out  a  large  cavity  in  the  blubber. 

"  Now,  Mass'  Brace,"  cried  he,  when  he  had  finished,  tri- 
umphantly balancing  the  axe  above  his  shoulder,  "  wha'  you 
call  dat  ?  Dar  's  a  lamp  hold  all  de  oil  we  want  set  blaze. 
You  d'sire  me  '  crow '  de  hole  any  wida  or  deepa,  I  soon 
make  'im  deep  's  a  draw-well  an'  wide  as  de  track  ob  a  wag- 
gon. Wha'  say,  Mass'  Brace  ?  " 

"  Hurraw  for  you,  Snowy  !  It  be  just  the  thing.  I  dar 
say  it 's  deep  enough,  and  wide  as  we  '11  want  it.  You  ha' 
got  good  brains,  nigger,  —  not'ithstanding  what  them  lubbers 
as  they  call  filosaphurs  say.  I  'm  a  white,  an'  niver  thought 
o'  it.  This  '11  do  for  the  furness  we  want.  Nothin'  more 
needed  than  to  pour  the  sparmacety  into  it,  chuck  a  bit  o' 
oakum  on  the  top,  an'  set  all  ablaze.  Let 's  do  it,  and  cook 
the  wittles  at  once." 

The  cavity,  which  Snowball  had  "  crowed  "  in  the  car- 
cass of  the  whale  was  soon  filled  with  oil  taken  from 
the  case.  In  this  was  inserted  with  due  care  a  quantity 
of  the  fibre,  obtained  by  "  picking "  the  old  ropes  into 
oakum. 

A  crane  was  next  erected  over  the  cavity,  —  a  handspike 
forming  one  support  and  an  oar  the  other.  The  crane  itself 
consisted  of  the  long  iron  arrow  and  socket  of  one  of  the  bar 
peons  found  in  the  carcass  of  the  cachalot. 


THE  BIG  RAFT.  2JTJ 

Upon  this  was  suspended,  as  upon  a  spit,  so  E..any  slices 
of  shark-meat  as  could  be  accommodated  with  room  •»  and 
when  all  was  arranged,  a  "  taper  "  was  handed  up  from  be- 
low, and  the  wick  set  on  fire. 

The  tarry  strands  caught  like  tinder;  and  soon  after  a 
tiorce  bright  blaze  was  seen  rising  several  feet  above  the 
back  of  the  cachalot,  —  causing  the  shark-steaks  to  frizzle 
and  fry,  and  promising  in  a  very  short  space  of  time  to  "  do 
them  to  a  turn." 

Any  one  who  could  have  witnessed  the  spectacle  from 
distance,  and  not  understanding  its  nature,  might  have  fan  • 
cied  that  the  whale  was  on  fire  ! 


CHAPTER    LXVI 

THE   BIO   RAPT. 

WHILE  the  strange  phenomenon  of  a  blazing  fire 
upon  the  back  of  a  whale  was  being  exhibited 
to  the  eyes  of  ocean-birds  and  ocean-fishes,  —  all  doubtless 
wondering  what  it  meant,  —  another  and  very  different 
spectacle  was  occurring  scarce  twenty  miles  from  the  spot,  — 
of  course  also  upon  the  surface  of  the  ocean. 

If  in  the  former  there  was  something  that  might  be  called 
comic,  there  was  nothing  of  this  in  the  latter.  On  the  con- 
trary, it  was  a  true  tragedy,  —  a  drama  of  death. 

The  stage  upon  which  it  was  being  enacted  was  a  platform 
of  planks  and  spars,  rudely  united  together,  —  in  short,  a 
raft.  The  dramatis  personce  were  men,  —  all  men  ;  although 
it  might  have  required  some  stretch  of  imagination,  —  aided 
by  a  little  acquaintanceship  with  the  circumstances  that  had 
placed  them  upon  thakraft,  —  to  have  been  certain  tfcst  they 


238  THE   OCEAN   WAIFS. 

were  human  beings.  A  stranger  to  them,  looking  upon  them 
in  reality,  —  or  upon  a  picture,  giving  a  faithful  representa- 
tion of  them,  —  might  have  doubted  their  humanity,  and 
mistaken  them  for  Jiends.  No  one  could  have  been  blamed 
for  such  a  misconception. 

If  human  beings  in  shape,  and  so  in  reality,  thtry  were 
fiends  in  aspect,  and  not  far  from  it  in  mental  conformation. 
Even  in  appearance  they  were  more  like  skeletons  than  men. 
One  actually  was  a  skeleton,  —  not  a  living  skeleton,  but  a 
corpse,  clean  stripped  of  its  flesh.  The  ensanguined  bones, 
with  some  fragments  of  the  cartilage  still  adhering  to  them, 
showed  that  the  despoliation  had  been  recent.  The  skeleton 
was  not  perfect.  Some  of  the  bones  were  absent.  A  few 
were  lying  near  on  the  timbers  of  the  raft,  and  a  few  others 
might  have  been  seen  in  places  where  it  was  horrible  to 
behold  them ! 

The  raft  was  an  oblong  platform  of  some  twenty  feet  in 
length  by  about  fifteen  in  width.  It  was  constructed  out  of 
pieces  of  broken  masts  and  spars  of  a  ship,  upon  which 
was  supported  an  irregular  sheeting  of  planks,  the  fragments 
of  bulwarks,  hatches,  cabin-doors  that  had  been  wrested  from 
their  hinges,  lids  of  tea-chests,  coops,  and  a  few  other  arti- 
cles, —  such  as  form  the  paraphernalia  of  movables  on  board 
a  ship.  There  was  a  large  hogshead  with  two  or  three 
-email  barrels  upon  the  raft ;  and  around  its  edge  were  lashed 
several  emptj  casks,  serving  as  buoys  to  keep  it  above 
water  A  single  spar  stood  up  out  of  its  centre,  or  "  mid- 
ships," to  which  was  rigged  —  in  a  very  slovenly  manner  — 
a  large  lateen  sail,  —  either  the  spanker  or  spritsail  of  a 
ship,  or  the  mizzen  topsail  of  a  bark. 

Around  the  "  step  "  of  the  mast  a  variety  of  other  objects 
might  have  been  seen :  such  as  oars,  handspikes,  pieces  of 
loose  boards,  some  tangled  coils  of  rope,  an  axe  or  two, 
half  a  dozen  tin  pots  and  "  tots,"  —  such  as  are  used  by  sail- 
ors,—  a  quantity  of  slm  k-bones  clean  picked,  with  two  ot 


THE  BIG  RAFT.  233 

tLree  other  bone?,  like  th*.-^  already  alluded  to,  and  whose 
size  and  form  told  them  to  be  the  tibia  of  a  human  skele- 
ton. 

Between  twenty  and  thirty  men  were  moving  amid  this 
miscellaneous  collection,  —  not  all  moving :  for  they  were  in 
every  conceivable  attitude,  of  repose  as  of  action.  Some 
were  seated,  some  lying  stretched,  some  standing,  some  stag- 
gering,—  as  if  reeling  under  the  influence  of  intoxication, 
or  too  feeble  to  support  their  bodies  in  an  erect  attitude.  It 
was  not  any  rocking  on  the  part  of  the  raft  that  was  pro- 
ducing these  eccentric  movements.  The  sea  was  perfectly 
quiescent,  and  the  rude  embarkation  rested  upon  it  like  a 
log. 

The  cause  might  have  been  discovered  near  the  bottom 
of  the  mast,  where  stood  a  barrel  or  cask  of  medium  size, 
from  which  proceeded  an  exhalation,  telling  its  contents  to 
be  rum. 

The  staggering  skeletons  were  drunk! 

It  was  not  that  noisy  intoxication  that  tells  of  recent  in- 
dulgence, but  rather  of  the  nervous  wreck  which  succeeds 
it ;  and  the  words  heard,  instead  of  being  the  loud  banterings 
of  inebriated  men,  were  more  like  the  ravings  and  gibbering 
of  maniacs.  No  wonder :  since  they  who  uttered  them  were 
mad, — mad  with  mania  potu!  If  they  were  ever  to  recover, 
it  would  be  the  last  time  they  were  likely  to  be  afflicted  by  the 
same  disease,  —  at  least  on  board  that  embarkation.  Not 
from  any  virtuous  resolve  on  their  parts,  but  simply  from 
the  fact  that  the  cause  of  their  insanity  no  longer  existed. 

The  rum-cask  was  as  dry  inside  as  out.  There  was  no 
longer  a  drop  of  the  infernal  liquor  on  tie  raft ;  no  more 
spirit  of  any  kind  to  produce  fresh  drunkenness  or  renewed 
delirium  tremens!  — 

The  madmen  were  not  heeded  by  the  others ;  but  allowed 
to  totter  about,  and  give  speech  to  their  incoherent  mum- 
blings, —  sometimes  diversified  by  yells,  or  peals  of 


240  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

laughter,  —  always  thickly  interlarded  with  oaths  and  othe« 
blasphemous  utterances. 

It  was  only  when  disturbing  the  repose  of  some  one  less 
exalted  than  themselves,  or  when  two  of  them  chanced  to 
come  into  collision,  that  a  scene  would  ensue,  —  in  some  in- 
stances extending  to  almost  every  individual  on  the  raft,  and 
ending  by  one  or  other  of  the  delirious  disputants  getting 
u  chucked  "  into  the  sea,  and  having  a  swim  before  recover- 
ing foothold  on  the  frail  embarkation.  This  the  ducked 
individual  would  be  certain  to  do.  Drunk  as  he  might  have 
been,  and  maudlin  as  he  might  be,  his  instincts  were  never 
so  benumbed  as  to  render  him  regardless  of  self-preserva- 
tion. Even  from  out  his  haggard  eyes  still  gleamed  enough 
of  intelligence  to  tell  that  those  dark  triangular  objects, 
moving  in  scores  around  the  raft,  and  cutting  the  water,  so 
swift  and  sheer,  were  the  dorsal  fins  of  the  dreaded  sharks. 
Each  one  was  a  sight  that,  to  a  sailor's  eye,  even  when 
"  blind  drunk,"  brings  habitual  dread. 

The  douche,  and  the  fright  attending  it,  would  usually  re- 
store his  reason  to  the  delirious  individual,  —  or,  at  all 
events,  would  have  the  effect  of  restoring  tranquillity  upon 
the  raft,  —  soon  after  to  be  disturbed  by  some  scene  of  like, 
or  perhaps  more  terrible,  activity. 

***** 

The  reader,  unacquainted  with  the  history  of  this  raft  and 
the  people  upon  it,  may  require  some  information  concerning 
them.  A  few  words  must  suffice  for  both. 

As  already  stated,  at  the  beginning  of  our  narrative,  a 
raft  was  constructed  out  of  such  timbers  as  could  be  de- 
tached from  the  slave-bark  Pandora,  —  after  that  vessel 
had  caught  fire,  and  previous  to  her  blowing  up.  Upon  this 
embarkation  the  slaver's  crew  had  escaped,  leaving  hercaryo 
to  perish,  —  some  by  the  explosion,  some  by  drowning,  and 
not  a  few  by  the  teeth  of  sharks.  The  Pandora's  captain, 
along  with  five  others,  —  including  the  mates  and  carpenter, 


THE  BIG  RAFT.  241 

•—  Lad  stolen  away  with  the  gig.  As  this  was  the  only  boat 
found  available  in  the  fearful  crisis  of  the  conflagration,  the 
remainder  of  the  crew  had  betaken  themselves  to  the  large 
raft,  hurriedly  constructed  for  the  occasion. 

As  already  related,  Snowball  and  the  Portuguese  girl 
were  the  only  individuals  on  board  the  Pandora  who  had 
remained  by  the  wreck,  or  rather  among  its  debris.  There 
the  Coromantee,  by  great  courage  and  cunning,  had  succeeded 
not  only  in  keeping  himself  and  his  protege  afloat,  but  in  es- 
tablishing a  chance  for  sustaining  existence,  calculated  to  last 
for  some  days.  It  is  known  also  that  Ben  Brace  with  his 
protege,  having  been  informed  by  the  captain's  parting 
speech  that  there  was  a  barrel  of  gunpowder  aboard  the 
buining  bark,  apprehensive  of  the  explosion,  had  silently 
constructed  a  little  raft  of  his  own ;  which,  after  being 
launched  from  under  the  bows  of  the  slaver,  he  had  brought 
«n  rapport  with  the  "  big  raft,"  and  thereto  attached  it. 
This  "  tender,"  still  carrying  the  English  sailor  and  the 
boy,  had  been  afterwards  cut  loose  from  its  larger  com- 
panion in  the  dead  hour  of  night,  and  permitted  to  fall  far 
into  the  wake.  The  reason  of  this  defection  was  simply  to 
save  little  William  from  being  eaten  up  by  the  ex-crew  of 
the  Pandora,  then  reduced  to  a  famished  condition,  —  if  we 
may  use  the  phrase,  screwed  up  to  the  standard  of  anthro- 
pophagy. 

Since  the  hour  in  which  the  two  rafts  became  separated 
from  each  other,  the  reader  is  acquainted,  in  all  its  minute 
details,  with  the  history  of  the  lesser :  how  it  joined  issue 
with  the  embarkation  that  carried  the  ex-cook  and  his  pro- 
?ge  ;  how  the  union  with  the  latter  produced  a  cross  be 
,ween  the  two,  —  afterwards  yclept  the  Catamaran;  with 
all  the  particulars  of  the  Catamaran's  voyage,  up  to  the 
tune  when  she  became  moored  alongside  the  carcass  of  the 
cachalot ;  and  for  several  days  after. 

During  this  time,  the,  "  big  raft "  carrying  the  crew  of  th< 
u  r 


242  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

burnt  bark,  —  being  out  of  sight,  may  also  have  es>,aped 
from  the  reader's  mind.  Both  it  and  its  occupants  were  still 
in  existence.  Not  all  of  them,  it  is  true,  but  the  greater 
number ;  and  .unong  these,  the  most  prominent  in  strength 
of  body,  energy  of  mind,  and  wickedness  of  disposition. 

It  is  scarce  necessary  to  say,  that  the  raft  now  introduced 
as  lying  upon  the  ocean  some  twenty  miles  from  the  dead 
cachalot,  was  that  which  some  days  before  had  parted 
from  the  Pandora,  or  that  the  fiendish  forms  that  occupied 
it  were  the  remnant  of  the  Pandora's  crew. 

These  were  not  all  there :  nearly  a  score  of  them  were 
absent.  The  absence  of  the  captain,  with  five  others  who 
had  accompanied  him  in  his  gig,  has  been  explained.  The 
ex-cook,  the  English  sailor  and  sailor-boy,  with  the  cabin 
passenger,  Lilly  Lalee,  have  also  been  accounted  for ;  but 
there  were  several  others  aboard  the  big  raft,  on  its  first 
starting  "  to  sea,"  that  were  no  longer  to  be  seen  amidst  the 
crowd  still  occupying  this  ungainly  embarkation.  Half  a 
dozen,  —  perhaps  more,  —  seemed  to  be  missing.  Their 
absence  might  have  appeared  mysterious,  to  any  one  who 
had  not  been  kept  "  posted  "  up  in  the  particulars  of  the  ill- 
directed  cruise  through  which  the  raft  had  been  passing ; 
though  the  skeleton  above  described,  and  the  dissevered 
tibia  scattered  around,  might  have  given  a  clew  to  their 
disappearance,  —  at  least,  to  any  one  initiated  into  the  shifts 
and  extremities  of  starvation. 

To  those  of  less  experience, — or  less  quick  comprehension, 
—  it  may  be  necessary  to  repeat  the  conversation  which  waa 
being  carried  on  upon  the  raft,  —  at  the  moment  when  it  is 
thus  reintroduced  to  the  notice  of  the  reader.  A  correcl 
report  of  this  will  satisfactorily  explain  why  its  original  crevr 
had  been  reduced,  from  over  thirty,  to  the  number  of  sut-and 
twenty,  exclusive  of  the  skeleton  1 


A  GREW  OF  CANNIBALS.  244 

CHAPTER    LXVII. 

A    CREW    OF    CANNIBALS. 

*  ffLLONS!"  cried  a  black-bearded  man,  in  whose 
*'•*  emaciated  frame  it  was  not  easy  to  recognize  the 
once  corpulent  bully  of  the  slave-ship,  —  the  Frenchman,  Le 
Gros.  "Allans!  messieurs!  It's  time  to  try  fortune  again. 
Sacre  !  we  must  eat,  or  die  ! " 

The  question  may  be  asked,  What  were  these  men  to  eat  ? 
There  appeared  to  be  no  food  upon  the  raft.  There  wa* 
none,  —  not  a  morsel  of  any  kind  that  might  properly  be 
called  meat  for  man.  Nor  had  there  been,  ever  since  the 
second  day  after  the  departure  of  the  raft  from  the  side  of 
the  burning  bark.  A  small  box  of  sea-biscuits,  that,  when 
distributed,  gave  only  two  to  each  man,  was  all  that  had  been 
saved  in  their  hurried  retreat  from  the  decks  of  the  Pandora. 
These  had  disappeared  in  a  day.  They  had  brought  away 
water  in  greater  abundance,  and  caught  some  since  in  their 
shirts,  and  on  the  spread  sail,  —  nearly  after  the  same  fashion 
and  in  the  same  rain-storm  that  had  afforded  the  well-timed 
supply  to  Ben  Brace  and  his  protege. 

But  the  stock  derived  from  both  sources  was  on  the  eve 
of  being  exhausted.  Only  a  small  ration  or  two  to  each  man 
remained  in  the  cask ;  but  thirsty  as  most  of  them  might  be, 
they  were  suffering  still  more  from  the  kindred  appetite  of 
bunger. 

What  did  Le  Gros  mean  when  he  said  they  must  eat  ? 
What  food  was  there  on  the  raft,  to  enable  them  to  avoid  the 
terrible  alternative  appended  to  his  proposal, — "  eat,  or  die"  ? 
What  had  kept  them  from  dying :  since  it  was  now  many 
days,  almost  weeks,  since  they  had  swallowed  the  last  morsel 
of  biscuit  so  sparingly  distributed  amongst  them  ? 

The  answer  to  all  .these  interrogatories  is  one  and  thi 


244  THE  OOEAN  WAIFS. 

eame.  It  is  too  fearful  to  be  pronounced, —  avjful  even  to 
think  of! 

The  clean-stripped  skeleton  lying  upon  the  raft,  and  which 
vras  clearly  that  of  a  human  being ;  the  bones  scattered  about, 
—  some  of  them,  as  already  observed,  held  in  hand,  and  in 
3uch  fashion  as  to  show  the  horrid  use  that  was  being  made 
of  them,  —  left  no  doubt  as  to  the  nature  of  the  food  upon 
which  the  hungering  wretches  had  been  subsisting. 

This,  and  the  flesh  of  a  small  shark,  which  they  had  suc- 
ceeded in  luring  alongside,  and  killing  with  the  blow  of  a 
handspike,  had  been  their  only  provision  since  parting  with 
the  Pandora.  There  were  sharks  enough  around  them 
now.  A  score,  at  the  very  least,  might  have  been  quarter- 
ing the  sea,  within  sight  of  the  raft;  but  these  monsters, 
strange  to  say,  were  so  shy,  that  not  one  of  them  would  ap- 
proach near  enough  to  allow  them  an  opportunity  of  captur- 
ing it !  Every  attempt  to  take  them  had  proved  unsuc- 
cessful. Such  of  the  crew  as  kept  sober  had  been  trying 
for  days.  Some  were  even  at  that  moment  engaged  with 
hook  and  line,  angling  for  the  ferocious  fish,  —  their  hooks 
floating  far  out  in  the  water,  baited  with  human  flesh ! 

It  was  only  the  mechanical  continuation  of  a  scheme  thai 
had  long  since  proved  to  be  of  no  avail,  —  a  sort  of  despair  • 
ing  struggle  against  improbability.  The  sharks  had  taken 
the  alarm ;  perhaps  from  observing  the  fate  of  that  one  of 
their  number  that  had  gone  too  near  the  odd  embarkation ; 
or,  perhaps,  warned  by  some  mysterious  instinct,  that,  sooner 
or  later,  they  would  make  a  grand  banquet  on  those  who 
were  so  eager  to  feast  upon  them. 

In  any  case,  no  sharks  had  been  taken,  or  were  likely  to 
b«  taken ;  and  once  more  the  eyes  of  the  famishing  casta- 
ways were  wolfishly  turned  upon  one  another,  while  their 
thoughts  reverted  to  that  horrible  alternative  that  was  to 
save  them  from  starvation. 

I^e  Gros  —  on  board  the  raft,  as  upon  the  deck  of  tbf 


A  CREW  OF   CANNIBALS.  245 

•lave-ship  —  still  held  a  sort  of  fatal  ascendency  over  hia 
comrades;  and  with  Ben  Brace  no  longer  to  oppose  his  des- 
potic propensities,  he  had  established  over  his  fellow-skele- 
tons a  species  of  arbitrary  rule. 

His  conduct  had  all  along  been  guided  by  no  more  regard 
for  fair-play  than  was  just  necessary  to  keep  his  subordi- 
nates from  breaking  out  into  open  mutiny ;  and  among  these 
the  weaker  ones  fared  even  worse  than  their  fellows,  bad  aa 
that  was. 

A  few  of  the  stronger,  —  who  formed  a  sort  of  body 
guard  to  the  bully,  and  were  ready  to  stand  up  for  him  in 
case  of  extremity,  —  shared  his  ascendency  over  the  rest; 
and  to  these  were  distributed  larger  rations  of  water,  along 
with  the  more  choice  morsels  of  their  horrid  food. 

This  partiality  had  more  than  once  led  to  scenes,  that 
promised  to  end  in  bloodshed ;  and  but  for  this  occasional 
show  of  resistance,  Le  Gros  and  his  party  might  have  estab- 
lished a  tyranny  that  would  have  given  them  full  power 
over  the  lives  of  their  feebler  companions. 

Things  were  fast  tending  in  this  direction,  —  merging,  as 
it  were,  into  absolute  monarchy,  —  a  monarchy  of  "  canni- 
bals," of  which  Le  Gros  himself  would  be  "  king."  It  had 
not  yet,  however,  quite  come  to  that,  —  at  least  when  it  be- 
came a  question  of  life  and  death.  When  the  necessity 
arose  of  finding  a  fresh  victim  for  their  horrible  but  neces- 
sary sacrifice,  there  was  still  enough  republicanism  left 
among  the  wretches  to  influence  the  decision  in  a  just  and 
equitable  manner,  and  cause  the  selection  to  be  made  by  lot. 
When  it  comes  to  crises  like  these,  —  to  questions  of  life  and 
death,  —  men  must  yield  up  their  opposition  to  the  battot, 
and  acknowledge  its  equity. 

Le  Gros  and  his  cruel  body-guard  would  have  opposed  it 
had  they  been  strong  enough,  —  as  do  equally  cruel  politi- 
cians who  are  strong  enough, — but  the  bully  still  doubted 
(he  strength  of  his  party;  A.  proposal  so  atrocious 


246  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

made ,  in  the  case  of  little  William,  at  the  very  outset,  and 
had  met  with  but  slight  opposition.  Had  it  not  been  foi^the 
brave  English  sailor,  the  lad  would  certainly  have  fallen  a 
sacrifice  to  the  horrid  appetites  of  these  horrid  men.  With 
one  of  themselves,  however,  the  case  was  different.  Each 
had  a  few  adherents,  who  would  not  have  submitted  to  such 
an  arbitrary  cruelty ;  and  Le  Gros  was  influenced  by  the 
fear  of  a  general  "  skrimmage,"  in  which  more  than  one  life, 
—  among  the  rest  perhaps  his  own,  —  might  be  forfeited. 
The  time  for  such  a  high-handed  measure  had  not  yet 
arrived ;  and  when  it  came  to  the  question  of  "  Who  dies 
next  ?  "  it  was  still  found  necessary  to  resort  to  the  ballot. 

That  question  was  once  more  propounded,  —  now  for  the 
third  time,  —  Le  Gros  himself  acting  as  the  spokesman. 
No  one  said  anything  in  reply,  or  made  any  sign  of  being 
opposed  to  an  answer  being  given.  On  the  contrary,  all 
appeared  to  yield,  if  not  a  cheerful,  at  least  a  tacit  assent  to 
what  they  all  knew  to  be  meant  for  a  proposal,  —  knowing 
also  its  fearful  nature  and  consequences. 

They  also  comprehended  whence  the  answer  was  to  come. 
Twice  before  had  they  consulted  that  dread  oracle,  whose 
response  was  certain  death  to  one  of  their  number.  Twice 
before  had  they  recognized  and  submitted  to  its  decree.  No 
preliminaries  needed  to  be  discussed.  These  had  been  long 
ago  arranged.  There  was  nothing  more  to  do  than  cast  the 
lots. 

On  the  moment  after  Le  Gros  had  put  the  question,  a 
movement  was  visible  among  the  men  to  whom  it  was  ad- 
dressed. One  might  have  expected  it  to  startle  them  ;  but 
It  did  not  appear  to  do  this,  —  at  least,  to  any  great  extent. 
Some  only  showed  those  signs  of  fear  distinguishable  by 
blanched  cheeks  and  white  lips  ;  but  there  were  some  too 
delirious  to  understand  the  full  import  of  what  was  to  fol- 
low ;  And  the  majority  of  the  crew  had  become  too  calkmi 
with  suffering  to  care  much  even  for  life  J 


A   CREW  OF  CANNIBALS.  247 

Most  that  could,  however,  —  for  there  were  some  too  fee- 
ble to  stand  erect,  —  rose  to  their  feet,  and  gathered  around 
the  challenger,  exhibiting  both  in  their  words  and  attitudes, 
an  earnestness  that  told  them  not  altogether  indifferent  to 
death. 

By  a  sort  of  tacit  agreement  among  them,  Le  Gros  acted 
as  master  of  the  ceremonies,  —  the  dispenser  of  that  dread 
lottery  of  life  and  death,  in  which  he  himself  was  to  take  a 
share.  Two  or  three  of  his  fellows  stood  on  each  side  of 
him,  acting  as  aids  or  croupiers. 

Solemn  and  momentous  as  was  the  question  to  be  decided, 
the  mode  of  decision  was  simple  in  the  extreme.  Le  Gros 
held  in  his  hand  a  canvas  bag,  of  oblong  bolster  shape, — 
such  as  sailors  use  to  carry  their  spare  suit  of  "  Sunday 
go-ashores."  In  the  bottom  of  this  bag,  —  already  carefully 
counted  into  it,  —  were  twenty-six  buttons :  the  exact  number 
of  those  who  were  to  take  part  in  the  drawing.  They  were 
the  common  black  buttons  of  horn,  —  each  pierced  with  four 
holes, — such  as  may  be  seen  upon  the  jacket  of  the  merchant 
sailor.  They  had  been  cut  from  their  own  garments  for 
the  purpose  in  which  they  were  now,  a  third  time,  to  be 
employed,  and  all  chosen  so  exactly  alike,  that  even  the  eye 
would  have  found  it  difficult  to  distinguish  one  from  the 
other.  One,  however,  offered  an  exception  to  this  statement. 
While  all  its  fellows  were  jet  black,  it  exhibited  a  reddish 
hue,  —  a  dark  crimson,  —  as  if  it  had  been  defiled  with  blood. 
And  so  it  had  been ;  stained  on  purpose,  —  that  for  which  it 
was  to  be  employed,  —  to  be  the  exponent  of  the  prize,  in 
that  lottery  of  blood,  of  which  its  color  was  an  appropriate 
emblem. 

The  difference  between  it  and  the  others  was  not  percep- 
tible to  the  touch.  The  fingers  of  a  man  born  blind  could 
not  have  distinguished  it  among  the  rest,  —  much  less  the 
callous  and  tar-bedaubed  "  claws  "  of  a  sailor. 

The  red  button  was  cast  into  the  bag  along  with  Ihe  others. 
Uie  who  should  draw  it  forth  must  die  ! 


248  TITE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

As  we  have  said,  there,  was  no  settling  about  preliminaries 
no  talking  about  choice  as  to  the  time  of  drawing.  Thes« 
matters  had  been  discussed  before,  both  openly  and  by  secret 
mental  calculations.  All  had  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that 
tb.3  chances  were  even,  and  that  it  could  make  no  difference 
in  the  event  as  to  whose  fate  was  first  decided.  The  red 
button  might  be  the  last  in  the  bag,  or  it  might  be  the  first 
drawn  out  of  it. 

Under  this  impression,  no  one  hesitated  to  inaugurate  the 
dread  ceremony  of  the  drawing ;  and  as  soon  as  Le  Gros  held 
out  the  bag, — just  open  enough  to  admit  a  hand,  —  a  man 
stepped  up,  and,  with  an  air  of  reckless  indifference,  plunged 
his  arm  into  the  opening! 


CHAPTER    LXVIII. 

THE   LOTTERY    OF   LIFE   AND    DEATH. 

ONE  by  one  the  buttons  were  drawn  forth  from  the  bag, 
—  each  man,  as  he  drew  his,  exhibiting  it  in  his  open 
palm,  to  satisfy  the  others  as  to  its  color,  and  then  placing 
it  in  a  common  receptacle,  —  against  the  contingency  of  ita 
being  required  again  for  another  like  lottery  ! 

Solemn  as  was  the  character  of  the  ceremony,  it  was  not 
conducted  either  in  solemnity  or  silence.  Many  of  the 
wretches  even  jested  while  it  was  in  progress  ;  and  a 
stranger  to  the  dread  conditions  under  which  the  drawing 
was  being  made  might  have  supposed  it  a  raffle  for  some 
trifling  prize ! 

The  faces  of  a  few,  however,  would  have  contradicted 
this  supposition.  A  few  there  were  who  approached  the 
oracle  with  cowed  and  craven  looks ;  and  their  trembling 


THE  LOTTERY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.  249 

dngtrs,  as  they  inserted  them  into  the  bag,  proclaimed  an 
apprehension  stronger  than  could  have  arisen  from  any  mere 
co  irting  of  chance  in  an  ordinary  casting  of  lots. 

Those  men  who  were  noisiest  and  most  gleeful  after  they 
had  drawn  were  the  ones  who  before  it  had  shown  the 
strongest  sigas  of  fear,  and  who  trembled  most  while  per- 
forming the  operation. 

Some  of  them  could  not  conceal  even  their  demoniac  joy 
at  having  drawn  blank,  but  danced  about  over  the  raft  as  if 
they  had  suddenly  succeeded  to  some  splendid  fortune. 

The  difference  between  this  singular  lottery  and  most 
others,  was  that  the  blanks  were  the  prizes,  —  the  prize 
itself  being  the  true  blank,  —  the  ending  of  existence. 

Le  Gros  continued  to  hold  the  bag,  and  with  an  air  of 
nonchalance ;  though  any  one  closely  observing  his  counte- 
nance could  tell  that  it  was  assumed.  As  had  been  already 
proved,  the  French  bully  was  at  heart  a  coward.  Under 
the  influence  of  angry  passion,  or  excited  by  a  desire  for 
revenge,  he  could  show  fight,  and  even  fling  himself  into 
positions  of  danger ;  but  in  a  contest  such  as  that  in  which 
he  was  now  engaged  a  cool  strife,  in  which  Fortune  was 
his  only  antagonist,  and  in  which  he  could  derive  no  advan- 
tage from  any  unfair  subterfuge,  his  artificial  courage  had 
entirely  forsaken  him. 

So  long  as  the  lottery  was  in  its  earlier  stages,  and  only 
a  few  buttons  had  been  taken  out  of  the  bag,  ho  preserved 
his  assumed  air  of  indifference.  There  were  still  many 
chances  of  life  against  that  one  of  death,  —  nearly  twenty 
to  one.  As  the  drawing  proceeded,  however,  and  one  after 
another  exhibited  his  black  button,  a  change  could  be  ob- 
served passing  over  the  features  of  the  Frenchman.  His 
apparent  sangfroid  began  to  forsake  him ;  while  his  glano^s 
betokened  a  faverish  excitement,  fast  hastening  towards  ap- 
prehension. 

As  each  fresh  hand  came  up  out  of  the  dark  receptacle; 
11* 


250  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

bearing  the  evidence  of  its  owner's  fate,  Le  Gros  was  seen 
to  cast  hurried  and  anxious  glances  towards  the  tiny  circle 
of  horn,  held  between  the  thumb  and  forefinger,  and  each 
time  that  he  saw  the  color  to  be  black  his  countenance 
appeared  to  darken  at  the  sight. 

When  the  twentieth  button  had  been  brought  forth,  and 
etill  the  red  one  remained  in  the  bag,  the  master  of  the  cere- 
monies became  fearfully  excited.  He  could  no  longer  con- 
ceal his  apprehension.  His  chances  of  life  were  diminished 
to  a  point  that  might  well  inspire  him  with  fear.  It  was 
now  but  six  to  one,  —  for  there  were  only  six  more  tickets 
to  be  disposed  of. 

At  this  crisis,  Le  Gros  interrupted  the  drawing  to  reflect. 
Would  he  be  in  a  better  position,  if  some  one  else  held  the 
bag?  Perhaps  that  might  change  the  run  of  luck  hitherto 
against  him ;  and  which  he  had  been  cursing  with  all  his 
might  ever  since  the  number  had  been  going  through  the 
teens.  He  had  tried  every  way  he  could  think  of  to  tempt 
the  red  ticket  out  of  the  bag.  He  had  shaken  the  buttons 
time  after  time,  —  in  hopes  of  bringing  it  to  the  top,  or  in 
some  position  that  might  insure  its  being  taken  up.  But  all 
to  no  purpose.  It  would  obstinately  stay  to  the  last. 

What  difference  could  it  make  were  he  to  hand  the  bag 
over  to  some  other  holder,  and  try  his  luck  for  the  twenty- 
first  chance  ?  "  Not  any ! "  was  the  mental  reply  he  re- 
ceived to  this  mental  inquiry.  Better  for  him  to  hold  on  as 
he  had  been  doing.  It  was  hardly  possible  —  at  least 
highly  improbable  —  that  the  red  button  should  be  the  last. 
There  had  been  twenty-five  chances  to  one  against  its  being 
so.  It  is  true  twenty  black  buttons  had  been  drawn  out 
before  it,  —  in  a  most  unexpected  manner,  —  still  it  was  as 
likely  to  come  next  as  any  of  the  remaining  six. 

It  would  be  of  no  use  changing  the  process,  —  so  con- 
cluded he,  in  his  own  mind,  —  and,  with  an  air  of  affected 
recklessness,  the  Frenchman  signified  to  those  around  him 
that  he  was  ready  to  continue  the  drawing. 


THE  LOTTERY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.  251 

Another  man  drew  forth  No.  21.  Like  those  preceding 
It,  the  button  was  black  ! 

No.  22  was  fished  out  of  the  bag,  —  black  also  ! 

23  and  24  were  of  the  like  hue ! 

But  two  buttons  now  remained,  —  two  men  onl}  whoM 
fate  was  undecided.  One  of  them  was  Le  Gros  himself,  — 
the  other,  an  Irish  sailor,  who  was,  perhaps,  the  least  wicked 
among  that  wicked  crew.  One  or  other  of  them  must  be- 
come food  for  their  cannibal  comrades ! 

It  would  scarce  be  true  to  say  that  the  interest  increased 
as  the  dread  lottery  progressed  towards  its  ending.  Its 
peculiar  conditions  had  secured  an  interest  from  the  first  ag 
intense  as  it  was  possible  for  it  to  be.  It  only  became 
changed  in  character,  —  less  selfish,  if  we  may  use  the 
phrase,  —  as  each  individual  escaped  from  the  dangerous 
contingency  involved  in  the  operation 

As  the  drawing  approached  its  termination,  the  anxiety 
about  the  result,  though  less  painful  to  the  majority  of  the 
men,  was  far  more  so  to  the  few  whose  fate  still  hung  sus- 
pended in  the  scale ;  and  this  feeling  became  more  intensi- 
fied in  the  breasts  of  the  still  smaller  number,  who  saw  their 
chances  of  safety  becoming  constantly  diminished.  When, 
at  length,  only  two  buttons  remained  in  the  bag,  and  only 
two  men  to  draw  them  out,  the  interest,  though  changed  in 
character,  was  nevertheless  sufficiently  exciting  to  fix  the 
attention  of  every  individual  on  the  raft. 

There  were  circumstances,  apart  from  the  mere  drawing, 
that  influenced  this  attention.  Fate  itself  seemed  to  be  tak- 
ing a  part  in  the  dread  drama ;  or,  if  not,  a  very  singular 
contingency  had  occurred. 

Between  the  two  men,  thus  left  to  decide  its  decree,  there 
existed  a  rivalry,  —  or,  rather,  might  it  be  called  a  positive 
antipathy,  —  deadly  as  any  vendetta  ever  enacted  on  Corei- 
can  soil. 

It  had  not  sprung  up  on  the  raft.     It  was  of  older  date,  — 


252  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

old  as  the  earliest  days  of  the  Pandora's  voyage,  on  whost 
decks  it  had  originated. 

Its  first  seeds  had  been  sown  in  that  quarrel  between  Le 
Gros  and  Ben  Brace,  —  in  which  the  Frenchman  had  been 
so  ignominio^isly  defeated.  The  Irish  sailor,  —  partly  from 
some  slight  feeling  of  co-nationality,  and  partly  from  a  natu- 
ral instinct  of  fair  play,  —  had  taken  sides  with  the  British  tar ; 
and,  as  a  consequence,  had  invoked  the  hostility  of  the  French- 
man. This  feeling  he  had  reciprocated  to  its  full  extent ; 
and  from  that  time  forward  Larry  O'Gorman  —  such  was 
the  Irishman's  name  —  became  the  true  bete  noir  of  Le  Gros, 
to  be  insulted  by  the  latter  on  every  occasion  that  might 
offer.  Even  Ben  Brace  was  no  longer  regarded  with  as 
much  dislike.  For  him  the  Frenchman  had  been  taught,  if 
not  friendship,  at  least,  a  certain  respect,  springing  from  fear ; 
and,  instead  of  continuing  his  jealous  rivalry  towards  the 
English  sailor,  Le  Gros  had  resigned  himself  to  occupy  a 
secondary  place  on  the  slaver,  and  transferred  his  spite  to 
the  representative  of  the  Emerald  Isle. 

More  than  once,  slight  collisions  had  occurred  between 
them,  —  in  which  the  Frenchman,  gifted  with  greater  cun- 
ning, had  managed  to  come  off  victorious.  But  there  had 
never  arisen  any  serious  matter  to  test  the  strength  of  tho 
two  men  to  that  desperate  strife,  of  which  death  might  be 
the  ending.  They  had  generally  fought  shy  of  each  other ; 
the  Frenchman  from  a  latent  fear  of  his  adversary,  —  founded, 
perhaps,  on  some  suspicion  of  powers  not  yet  exhibited  by 
him,  and  which  might  be  developed  in  a  deadly  struggle,  — 
the  Irishman  from  a  habitude,  not  very  common  among  his 
countrymen,  of  being  little  addicted  to  quarrelling.  He  was, 
on  the  contrary,  a  man  of  peaceful  disposition,  and  of  few 
words,  —  also  a  rare  circumstance,  considering  that  his  name 
was  Larry  O'Gorman. 

There  were  some  good  traits  in  Ihe  Irishman's  character 
Perhaps  we  have  given  the  best.  In  comparison  with  th« 


A  LOTTERY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.  258 

Frenchman,  he  might  be  described  as  an  angel ;  and,  com- 
pared with  the  other  wretches  on  the  raft,  he  was,  perhaps, 
the  least  bad:  for  the  word  best  could  not,  with  propriety,  bfl 
applied  to  any  one  of  that  motley  crew. 

Personally,  the  two  men  were  unlike  as  could  well  be. 
"While  the  Frenchman  was  black  and  bearded,  the  Irishman 
was  red  and  almost  beardless.  In  size,  however,  they  ap- 
proximated nearer  to  each  other,  —  both  being  men  of  large 
stature.  Both  had  been  stout,  —  almost  corpulent. 

Neither  could  be  so  described  as  they  assisted  at  that  sol- 
emn ceremonial  that  was  to  devote  one  or  other  of  them  to 
a  doom  —  in  which  their  condition  was  a  circumstance  of 
significant  interest  to  those  who  were  to  survive  them. 

Both  were  shrunken  in  shape,  with  their  garments  hanging 
loosely  around  their  bodies,  their  eyes  sunk  in  deep  cavities, 
their  cheek-bones  prominently  protruding,  their  breasts  flat 
and  fleshless,  the  ribs  easily  discernible,  —  in  short,  they  ap- 
peared more  like  a  pair  of  skeletons,  covered  with  shrivelled 
skin,  than  breathing,  living  men.  Either  was  but  ill-adapted 
for  the  purpose  to  which  dire  necessity  was  about  to  devote 
one  or  other  of  them. 

Of  the  two,  Le  Gros  appeared  the  less  attenuated.  This 
may  have  arisen  from  the  fact  of  his  greater  ascendency  over 
the  crew  of  the  raft,  —  by  means  of  which  he  had  been  en- 
abled to  appropriate  to  himself  a  larger  share  of  the  food 
sparsely  distributed  amongst  them.  His  ample  covering  of 
hair  may  have  had  something  to  do  with  this  appearance,  — 
concealing  as  it  did  the  unevenness  of  the  surface  upon  which 
it  grew,  and  imparting  a  plumper  aspect  to  his  lace  and  fea- 
tures. 

If  there  was  a  superiority  in  the  quantity  of  flesh  still 
clinging  to  his  bones,  its  quality  might  be  questioned,  —  at 
all  events,  in  regard  to  the  use  that  might  soon  be  made  of  it 
In  point  of  tenderness,  his  muscular  integuments  could  scarce- 
ly compare  with  thosQ-of  the  Irishman,  whose  bright  skip 
promised  — 


254  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

These  are  horrid  thoughts.  They  should  not  be  here 
repeated,  were  it  not  to  show  in  its  true  light  the  terrible 
extremes,  both  of  thought  and  action,  to  which  men  may  b« 
reduced  by  starvation.  Horrid  as  they  may  appear,  they 
were  entertained  at  that  crisis  by  the  castaway  crew  of  the 
Pandora  1 


CHAPTER    LXIX. 

A    CHALLENGE   DECLINED. 

WHEN  it  came  to  the  last  drawing,  —  for  there  need- 
ed to  be  only  one  more,  —  there  was  a  pause  in  the 
proceeding?,  such  as  usually  precedes  an  expected  climax. 

It  was  accompanied  by  silence  ;  so  profound  that,  but  for 
the  noise  made  by  the  waves  as  they  dashed  against  the  hol- 
low hogsheads,  a  pin  might  have  been  heard  if  dropped  upon 
the  planking  of  the  raft.  In  the  sound  of  the  sea  there  was 
something  lugubrious :  a  fit  accompaniment  of  the  unhal- 
lowed scene  that  was  being  enacted  by  those  within  hearing 
of  it.  One  might  have  fancied  that  spirits  in  fearful  pain 
were  confined  within  the  empty  casks,  and  that  the  sourds 
that  seemed  to  issue  out  of  them  were  groans  elicited  by 
their  agony. 

The  two  men,  one  of  whom  was  doomed  to  die,  stood  face 
to  face ;  the  others  forming  a  sort  of  circle  around  them. 
All  eyes  were  bent  upon  them,  while  theirs  were  fixed  only 
upon  each  other.  The  reciprocated  glance  was  one  of  dire 
hostility  and  hate,  —  combined  with  a  hope  on  the  part  of 
each  to  see  the  other  dead,  and  then  to  survive  him. 

Both  were  inspired  by  a  belief — in  the  presence  of  such 
•n  unexpected  contingency  it  was  not  unreasonable — that 


A  CHALLENGE  DECLINED.  255 

Fate  had  singled  them  out  from  their  fellows  to  stand  in  that 
itrange  antagonism.  They  were,  in  fact,  convinced  of  it. 

Under  the  influence  of  this  conviction,  it  might  be  sup- 
posed tha*  neither  would  offer  any  further  opposition  to 
Fate's  decree,  but  would  yield  to  what  might  appear  theh 
u  manifest  destiny." 

As  it  was,  however,  fatalism  was  not  the  faith  of  either. 
Though  neither  of  them  could  lay  claim  to  the  character  of 
»  Christian,  they  were  equally  unbelievers  in  this  particular 
article  of  the  creed  of  Mahomet;  and  both  were  imbued 
with  a  stronger  belief  in  strength  or  stratagem  than  ir 
chance. 

On  the  first-mentioned  the  Irishman  appeared  most  to  rely, 
as  was  evidenced  by  the  proposal  he  made  upon  the  occasion. 

"  I  dar  yez,"  said  he,  "  to  thry  which  is  the  best  man. 
To  dhraw  them  buttons  is  an  even  chance  bitwcen  us ;  an' 
maybe  the  best  man  is  him  that  '11  have  to  die.  By  Saint 
Patrhick !  that  is  n't  fair,  nohow.  The  best  man  should 
be  allowed  to  live.  Phwat  div  yez  say,  comrades  ?  " 

The  proposal,  though  unexpected  by  all,  found  partisans 
who  entertained  it.  It  put  a  new  face  upon  the  affair.  It 
was  one  that  was  not  more  than  reasonable. 

The  crew,  no  longer  interested  in  the  matter,  —  at  least, 
so  far  as  their  own  personal  safety  was  concerned,  —  could 
now  contemplate  the  result  with  calmness ;  and  the  instinct 
of  justice  was  not  dead  within  the  hearts  of  all  of  them.  In 
the  challenge  of  the  Irishman  there  appeared  nothing  unfair. 
A  number  of  them  were  inclined  to  entertain  it,  and  declared 
themselves  of  that  view. 

The  partisans  of  Le  Gros  were  the  more  numerous ;  and 
these  remained  silent,  —  waiting  until  the  latter  should 
make  reply  to  the  proposal  of  his  antagonist. 

After  the  slight  luck  he  had  already  experienced  in  the 
lottery,  —  combined  with  several  partial  defeats  erst  in- 
flicted upon  the  man  who  thus  challenged  him,  —  it  might 


256  TH£  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

have  been  expected  that  Le  Gros  would  have  gladly  ac 
cepted  the  challenge. 

He  did  not.  On  the  contrary,  he  showed  such  an  inclina* 
tion  to  trust  to  chance,  that  a  close  observer  of  his  looks  and 
actions  might  have  seen  cause  to  suspect  that  he  had  also 
gome  reliance  upon  stratagem. 

No  one,  however,  had  been  thus  closely  observing  him. 
No  one  —  except  the  individual  immediately  concerned  — 
had  noticed  that  quick  grasp  of  hands  between  him  and  one 
of  his  partisans ;  or,  if  they  had,  it  was  only  to  interpret  it 
as  a  salute  of  sympathy,  extended  towards  a  comrade  in  a 
situation  of  danger. 

In  that  salute,  however,  there  passed  between  the  two 
men  something  of  significance ;  which,  if  exhibited  to  the 
eyes  of  the  spectators,  would  have  explained  the  indifference 
to  death  that  from  that  moment  characterized  the  demeanor 
of  Le  Gros. 

After  that  furtive  movement,  he  no  longer  showed  any 
hesitancy  as  to  his  course  of  action  ;  but  at  once  declared 
his  willingness,  as  well  as  his  determination,  to  abide  by  the 
decision  of  the  drawing. 

"  Sacre ! "  cried  he,  in  answer  to  the  challenge  of  the 
Irishman ;  "  you  don't  suppose,  Monsieur  Irlandais,  that  I 
should  fear  the  result  as  you  propose  it  ?  Parbleu  !  nobody 
will  believe  that.  But  I'm  a  believer  in  Fortune,  —  not- 
withstanding the  scurvy  tricks  she  has  often  served  me,  — 
ever,  now  that  she  is  frowning  upon  me  black  as  ever. 
Neither  of  us  appears  to  be  in  favor  with  her,  and  that  will 
make  our  chances  equal.  So  then,  I  say,  let  us  try  her 
again.  Sacre  !  it  will  be  the  last  time  she  can  frown  on  one 
of  us,  — that 's  certain." 

As  O'Gorman  had  no  right  to  alter  the  original  pro 
gramme  of  the  lottery,  of  course  the  dissenting  voices  to  its 
continuance  were  in  the  minority  ;  and  the  general  clamor 
tailed  upon  fate  to  decide  which  of  the  two  men  was  to 
become  food  for  their  famishing  companions. 


A  CHALLENGE  DECLINED.  257 

Le  Gros  still  held  the  bag  containing  the  two  buttons. 
One  of  them  should  be  black,  the  other  red.  It  became  a 
subject  of  dispute,  which  was  to  make  the  draw.  It  was 
not  a  question  of  who  should  draw  first,  since  one  button 
taken  out  would  be  sufficient  If  the  red  one  came  out,  the 
drawer  must  die ;  if  the  black,  then  the  other  must  become 
the  victim. 

Some  proposed  that  a  third  party  should  hold  the  bag, 
and  that  tLere  should  be  a  toss  up  for  the  first  chance.  Le 
Gros  showed  a  disposition  to  oppose  this  plan.  He  said 
that,  as  he  had  been  intrusted  with  the  superintendence  so 
far,  he  should  continue  it  to  the  end.  They  all  saw,  —  so 
urged  he,  —  that  he  had  not  benefited  by  the  office  imposed 
upon  him ;  but  the  contrary.  It  had  brought  nothing  but 
ill-luck  to  him  ;  and,  as  everybody  knew,  when  a  run  of  ill- 
luck  once  sets  in,  there  was  no  knowing  where  it  might  ter- 
minate. He  did  not  care  much,  one  way  or  the  other : 
since  there  could  be  no  advantage  in  his  holding  the  bag ; 
but  as  he  had  done  so  all  through,  —  as  he  believed  to  his 
disadvantage,  —  he  was  willing  to  hold  on,  even  if  it  was 
death  that  was  to  be  his  award. 

The  speech  of  Le  Gros  had  the  desired  effect.  The 
majority  declared  themselves  in  favor  of  his  continuing  to 
hold  the  bag ;  and  it  was  decided  that  the  Irishman  should 
make  choice  of  the  penultimate  button. 

The  latter  offered  no  opposition  to  this  arrangement. 
There  appeared  no  valid  grounds  for  objecting  to  it.  It  was 
a  simple  toss  of  heads  and  tails,  —  "  Heads  I  win,  and  tails 
you  lose  "  ;  or,  to  make  use  of  a  formula  more  appropriate 
to  the  occasion,  "  Heads  I  live,  and  tails  you  die."  With 
some  such  process  of  reasoning  current  through  the  brain  of 
Larry  O'Gorman,  he  stepped  boldly  up  to  the  bag ;  plunged 
his  fist  into  its  obscure  interior  ;  and  drew  forth  —  the  blacl 
button! 


258  THE  OCEAN  WAIF* 

CHAPTER    LXX. 

AN   UNEXPECTED    TERMINATION. 

THE  red  button  remained  in  the  bag.  It  was  a  singv* 
lar  circumstance  that  it  should  be  the  last ;  but  suck 
strange  circumstances  will  sometimes  occur.  It  belonged  to 
Le  Gros.  The  lottery  was  over ;  the  Frenchman  had  for« 
feited  life. 

It  seemed  idle  for  him  to  draw  the  button  out ;  and 
yret,  to  the  astonishment  of  the  spectators,  he  proceeded  to 
rlo  so. 

"  Sacre  !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  the  luck  's  been  against  me. 
Eh  trien ! "  he  added,  with  a  sangfroid  that  caused  some 
surprise,  "  I  suppose  I  must  make  a  die  of  it.  Let  me  see 
the  accursed  thing  that 's  going  to  condemn  me ! " 

As  he  said  this,  he  held  up  the  bag  in  his  left  hand,  —  at 
the  sam*  time  plunging  his  right  into  its  dark  interior.  For 
some  seconds  he  appeared  to  grope  about,  as  if  he  had  some 
difficulty  in  finding  the  button.  While  fumbling  in  this 
fashion  he  let  go  the  mouth  of  the  wallet,  which  he  had  been 
holding  in  his  left  hand,  —  adroitly  transferring  his  hold  to 
its  bottom.  This  was  done  apparently  for  the  purpose  of 
getting  the  button  into  a  corner,  —  in  order  that  he  might 
lay  hold  of  it  with  his  fingers. 

For  some  moments  the  bag  rested  upon  his  left  fore- 
arm, while  he  continued  his  hunt  after  the  little  piece  of 
horn.  He  appeared  successful  at  length ;  and  drew  forth 
his  right  hand,  with  the  fingers  closed  over  the  palm, 
as  if  containing  something,  —  of  course  the  dread  symbol 
of  death.  Stirred  by  a  kind  of  curiosity,  his  comradea 
pressed  mechanically  around,  and  stood  watching  his  move- 
ments. 

For  an  inptant  he  kept  his  fist  closed,  holding  it  on  high 


AN  UNEXPECTED  TERMINATION.        259 

to  that  all  might  see  it:  and  then,  slowly  extending  his 
fingers,  he  exhibited  his  spread  palm  before  their  eyes.  It 
held  the  button  that  he  had  drawn  forth  from  the  bag ;  but, 
to  the  astonishment  of  all,  it  was  a  black  one,  and  not  the 
red  token  that  had  been  expected! 

There  were  but  two  men  who  did  not  partake  of  this 
surprise.  One  was  Le  Gros  himself,  —  though,  to  all  ap- 
pearance, he  was  the  most  astonished  individual  of  the  party, 
—  the  other  was  the  man  who,  some  minutes  before,  might 
have  been  observed  standing  by  his  side,  and  stealthily 
transferring  something  from  his  own  fingers  to  those  of  the 
Frenchman. 

This  unexpected  termination  of  the  lottery  led  to  a  scene 
of  ten-ific  excitement.  Several  seized  hold  of  the  bag,  — 
jerking  it  out  of  the  hand  of  him  who  had  hitherto  been 
holding  it.  It  was  at  once  turned  inside  out ;  when  the  red 
button  fell  upon  the  planking  of  the  raft. 

Most  of  the  men  were  furious,  and  loudly  declared  that 
they  had  been  cheated,  —  some  offering  conjectures  as  to 
how  the  cheat  had  been  accomplished.  The  confederate  of 
Le  Gros  —  backed  by  the  ruffian  himself — suggested  that 
there  might  have  been  no  deception  about  the  matter,  but 
only  a  mistake  made  in  the  number  of  buttons  originally 

thrown  into  the  bag.  "  Like  enough,  —  d d  like 

enough!"  —  urged  Le  Gros's  sharping  partner;  u-  there  'a 
been  a  button  too  many  put  into  the  bag,  —  twenty-seven 
instead  of  twenty-six.  That 's  how  it 's  come  about.  Well, 
as  we  all  helped  at  the  counting  of  'em,  therefore  it 's  no- 
body's fault  in  particular.  We  '11  have  to  draw  again,  and 
the  next  time  we  can  be  more  careful." 

As  no  one  appeared  able  to  contradict  this  hypothesis,  it 
passed  off,  with  a  number,  as  the  correct  one.  Most  of  the 
men,  however,  felt  sure  that  a  trick  had  been  played ;  and 
the  trick  itself  could  be  easily  conjectured.  Some  one  of 
the  drawers  had  procured  a  button  similar  to  those  inside 


2CO  THE  OCEAN  WATFS. 

the  bag ;  and  holding  this  button,  had  sinr.  ply  inserted  hi* 
hand,  and  drawn  it  out  again. 

Out  of  twenty-six  draws  it  would  have  been  impossible  to 
fix  upon  the  individual  who  had  been  guilty  of  the  cheat , 
though  there  were  not  a  few  who  permitted  their  suspicions 
to  fall  on  Le  Gros  himself.  There  had  been  observed 
something  peculiar  in  his  mode  of  manipulation.  He  had 
inserted  his  hand  into  the  wallet  with  the  fist  closed ;  and 
had  drawn  it  out  in  similar  fashion.  This,  with  one  or  two 
other  circumstances,  looked  suspicious  enough ;  but  it  was 
remembered  that  some  others  had  done  the  same ;  and  as 
there  was  not  enough  of  evidence  to  bring  home  the  infa- 
mous act  to  its  perpetrator,  no  one  appeared  either  able  or 
willing  to  risk  making  the  accusation. 

Yes,  there  was  one  who  had  not  yet  declared  himself; 
nor  did  he  do  so  until  some  time  had  elapsed  after  the  final 
and  disappointing  draw  made  by  the  master  of  the  cere- 
monies. This  man  was  Larry  0' Gorman. 

While  the  rest  of  the  crew  had  been  listening  to  the  argu- 
ments of  the  Frenchman's  confederate,  —  and  one  by  one 
signifying  their  acquiescence,  —  the  Irishman  stood  apart, 
apparently  busied  in  some  profound  mental  calculation. 

When  at  length  all  seemed  to  have  consented  to  a  second 
casting  of  lots,  he  roused  himself  from  his  reverie ;  and, 
stepping  hastily  into  their  midst,  cried  out  in  a  determined 
manner,  "No — 

"  No,  yez  don't,"  continued  he,  "  no  more  drawin',  my 
jewels,  till  we  Ve  had  a  betther  undherstandin'  ov  this  little 
matther.  That  there  's  been  chatin'  yez  are  all  agreed  ;  only 
yez  can't  identify  the  chate.  Maybe  I  can  say  somethin'  to 
point  out  the  dirty  spalpeen  as  "has  n't  the  courage  nor  the 
dacency  to  take  his  chance  along  wid  the  rest  ov  us." 

This  unexpected  interpolation  at  once  drew  the  eyes  of 
;J1  parties  upon  the  speaker ;  for  all  were  alike  interested  in 
the  revelation  which  0' Gorman  was  threatening  to  make 


LE  GROS  UPON  TRIAL.  261 

Whoever  had  played  foul,  —  if  it  could  only  be  proved 
Against  him,  —  would  be  regarded  as  the  man  who  ought  to 
have  drawn  the  red  button ;  and  would  be  treated  as  if  he 
had  done  so.  This  was  tacitly  understood ;  even  before  the 
suggestion  of  such  a  course  had  passed'  the  lips  of  any  one. 
Those  who  were  innocent  were  of  course  desirous  of  discov- 
ering the  "  black  sheep,"  —  in  order  to  escape  the  danger 
of  a  second  drawing,  —  and,  as  these  comprehended  almost 
the  entire  crew,  it  was  natural  that  an  attentive  ear  should 
be  given  to  the  statement  which  the  Irishman  proposed  to 
lay  before  them. 

All  stood  gazing  upon  him  with  expectant  eyes.  In  those 
of  Le  Gros  and  his  confederate  there  was  a  different  ex- 
pression. The  look  of  the  Frenchman  was  more  especially 
remarkable.  His  jaws  had  fallen  ;  his  lips  were  white  and 
bloodless ;  his  eyes  glared  fiend-like  out  of  their  sunken 
sockets ;  while  the  whole  cast  of  his  features  was  that  of  a 
man  threatened  with  some  fearful  and  infamous  fate,  which 
he  feels  himself  unable  to  avert. 


CHAPTER    LXXI. 

LE   GROS   UPON  TRIAL. 

AS  0' Gorman  gave  utterance  to  the  last  words  <rf  his 
preparatory  speech,  he  fixed  his  eyes  steadfastly  upon 
the  Frenchman.     His  look  confirmed  every  one  in  the  belief 
that  the  allusion  had  been  to  the  latter. 

Le  Gros  at  first  quailed  before  the  Irishman's  glance ; 
but,  perceiving  the  necessity  of  putting  a  bold  front  on  the 
matter,  he  made  an  endeavor  to  reciprocate  it. 

"  Sacre  bleu  /"    he.  exclaimed.     "Monsieur   Irlandait, 


262  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

why  do  you  look  at  me  ?  you  don't  mean  to  insinuate  that 
I  Ve  acted  unfairly  ?  " 

"  The  divil  a  bit,"  replied  the  Irishman.  "  If  it 's  insin- 
ivation  yez  be  talkin'  about,  the  divil  a  bit  ov  that  do  I 
inane.  Larry  O'Gorman  is  n't  agoin  to  bate  about  the  bush 
wan  way  or  the  tother,  Misther  Laygrow.  He  tells  ye  to 
yer  teeth  that  it  was  yer  beautiful  self  putt  the  exthra  button 
into  the  bag,  —  yez  did  it,  Misther  Laygrow,  and  nobody 
else." 

"  Liar  ! "  vociferated  the  Frenchman,  with  a  menacing 
gesture.  "  Liar  ! " 

"  Kape  cool,  Frenchy.  It  is  'nt  Larry  the  Galwayman 
that 's  goin'  to  be  scared  at  yer  blusther.  I  repate,  —  it  was 
you  yourself  that  putt  that  button  into  the  bag." 

"  How  do  you  know  that,  O'Gorman  ?"  "  Can  you  prove 
it  ?  "  "  What  proof  have  you  ?  "  were  questions  that  were 
asked  simultaneously  by  several  voices,  —  among  which  that 
of  the  Frenchman's  confederate  was  conspicuous. 

"  Phwy,  phwat  more  proof  dir  yez  want,  than  phwat  's 
alriddy  before  yez  ?  When  I  had  me  hand  in  the  wallet, 
there  wasn't  only  the  two  buttons,  —  the  divil  a  more.  I 
feeled  thim  both  while  I  was  gropin'  about  to  make  choice 
betwixt  them  ;  an  if  there  had  been  a  third,  I  wud  a  feeled 
that  too.  I  can  swear  by  the  holy  cross  of  Saint  Pathrick 
there  was  n't  wan  more  than  the  two." 

"  That 's  no  proof  there  was  n't  three,"  urged  the  friend 
of  Le  Gros.  "  The  third  might  have  been  in  a  wrinkle  of 
the  bag,  without  your  feeling  it  !  " 

"  The  divil  a  wrinkle  it  was  in,  except  the  wrinkles  in  the 
palm  of  that  spalpeen's  fist !  That 's  where  it  was  ;  and  1 
can  tell  yez  all  who  putt  it  there.  It  was  this  very  chap 
who  is  so  pit-a-pat  at  explainin'  it.  Yez  need  n't  deny  it. 
Bill  Bowler.  I  saw  somethin'  passin'  betwixt  yerself  and 
Frenchy,  —  jest  before  it  come  his  turn  to  dhraw.  I  saw 
yer  flippers  touchin'  van  another,  an'  pomethin'  plippin'  in 


A  DUEL  TO  THE  DEATH.  263 

betwane  them.  I  could  n't  tell  phwat  it  was,  but,  by  Jaysua ! 
I  thought  it  quare  for  all  that.  I  know  now  phwhat  it 
was,  —  it  was  the  button." 

The  Irishman's  arguments  merited  attention ;  and  received 
it.  The  circumstances  looked  at  the  least  suspicious  against 
Le  Gros.  To  the  majority  they  were  conclusive  of  his 
guilt. 

The  accusation  was  supported  by  other  evidence.  The 
man  who  had  preceded  0' Gorman  in  the  drawing  positively 
avowed  that  he  could  feel  only  three  buttons  in  the  bag; 
while  the  one  before  him,  with  equal  confidence,  asserted 
that  when  he  drew,  there  were  but  four.  Both  declared 
that  they  could  not  be  mistaken  as  to  the  numbers.  They 
had  separately  "  fingered  "  each  button  in  the  hope  of  being 
able  to  detect  that  which  was  blood-stained,  and  so  avoid 
bringing  it  forth. 

"  Ach ! "  ejaculated  the  Irishman,  becoming  impatient  for 
the  conviction  of  his  guilty  antagonist ;  "  phwat's  the  use  ov 
talkin'.  Frenchy's  the  wan  that  did  it.  That  gropin'  an' 
fumblin'  about  the  bottom  of  the  wallet  was  all  pretince. 
He  had  the  button  in  his  shut  fist  all  the  time,  an'  by  Jaysus! 
he  's  entitled  to  the  prize,  the  same  as  if  he  had  dhrawn  it. 
It's  him  that's  got  to  die!" 

"  Canaille  !  liar !  "  shouted  Le  Gros ;  "  if  I  have,  you  "  — 

And  as  the  words  issued  from  his  lips  he  sprang  forward, 
knife  in  hand,  with  the  evident  design  of  taking  the  life  of 
his  accuser. 

"  Kape  cool ! "  cried  the  latter,  springing  out  of  reach  of 
his  assailant ;  and  with  his  own  blade  bared,  placing  himself 
on  the  defensive.  "  Kape  cool,  ye  frog-atin  son  av  a  gun, 
or  ye '11  make  mate  for  us  sooner  than  ye  expected,  ay, 
before  yez  have  time  to  put  up  a  pater  for  yer  ugly  feowl, 
that  stans  most  disperately  in  nade  ov  it. 

"  Now,"  continued  the  Irishman,  after  he  had  fairly  placed 
himself  in, an  attitude  of  defence;  "come  an  whiniver  yea 


264  THE   OCEAX  WAIFS. 

loike.  Larry  O'Gorman  is  riddy  for  ye,  an'  another  av  the 
same  at  yer  dhirty  back.  Hock, — faugh-a-battah,  —  kiloo, 
—  whallabaloo  !  " 


CHAPTER    LXXII. 

A   DUEL   TO   THE   DEATH. 

THE  strange  ceremonial  upon  the  raft,  —  hitherto  car- 
ried on  with  some  show  of  solemnity,  —  had  reached 
an  unexpected  crisis. 

A  second  appeal  to  the  goddess  of  Fortune  was  no  longer 
thought  of.  The  deadly  antagonism  of  the  two  chief  cast-' 
aways  —  Le  Gros  and  0' Gorman  —  promised  a  result  likely 
to  supply  the  larder  of  that  cannibal  crew,  without  the 
necessity  of  their  having  recourse  to  her  decrees. 

One  or  other,  —  perhaps  both,  —  of  these  men  must  soon 
cease  to  live ;  for  the  determined  attitude  of  each  told, 
beyond  mistaking,  that  his  bared  blade  would  not  be  again 
sheathed,  except  in  the  flesh  of  his  adversary. 

There  was  no  attempt  at  intervention.  Not  one  of  their 
comrades  interposed  to  keep  them  apart.  There  was  friendly 
feeling,  —  or,  to  use  a  more  appropriate  phrase,  partisanship, 
• —  on  the  side  of  each ;  but  it  was  of  that  character  whieh 
usually  exists  among  the  brutal  backers  of  two  "  champions 
of  the  ring." 

Under  other  circumstances,  each  party  might  have  re- 
gretted the  defeat  of  the  champion  they  had  adopted ;  but 
upon  that  raft,  the  death  of  one  or  other  of  the  combatants 
was  not  only  de-irable;  but,  rather  than  it  should  not  occur, 
either  side  would  have  most  gladly  assented  to  see  its  es- 
pecial favorite  the  victim. 

Every  man  of  that  ruffian  crew  had  a  selfish  interest  io 


A  DUEL  TO  THE  DEATH.  265 

the  result  of  the  threatened  conflict;  and  this  fir  outweighed 
any  feeling  of  partisanship  with  which  he  might  have  been 
inspired.  A  few  may  have  felt  friendlier  than  others  to- 
wards their  respective  champions ;  but  to  the  majority  it 
mattered  little  which  of  the  two  men  should  die ;  and  there 
were  even  some  who,  in  the  secret  chambers  of  their  hearts, 
would  have  reflected  gleefully  to  behold  both  become  victims 
of  their  reciprocal  hostility.  Such  a  result  would  cause  a 
still  further  postponement  of  that  unpopular  lottery,  —  in 
which  they  had  been  too  often  compelled  to  take  shares. 

There  was  no  very  great  difference  in  the  number  of  the 
"  friends  "  on  either  side.  The  partisans  of  the  Frenchman 
would  have  far  outnumbered  those  of  his  Irish  adversary, 
but  tea  minutes  before.  But  the  behavior  of  Le  Gros  in 
the  lottery  had  lost  him  many  adherents.  That  he  had 
played  the  trick  imputed  to  him  was  by  most  believed  ;  and 
as  the  result  of  his  unmanly  subterfuge  was  of  personal  in- 
terest to  all,  there  were  many,  hitherto  indifferent,  now 
inspired  with  hostility  towards  him. 

Apart  from  personal  considerations,  —  even  amongst  that 
conglomeration  of  outcasts,  —  there  were  some  in  whom  the 
instinct  of  "  fair  play  "  was  not  altogether  dead ;  and  the 
foul  play  of  the  Frenchman  had  freshly  aroused  this  instinct 
within  them. 

As  soon  as  the  combatants  had  shown  a  fixed  determina- 
tion to  engage  in  deadly  strife,  the  crowd  upon  the  raft  be- 
came separated,  as  if  by  mechanical  action,  into  two  groups, 
—  one  forming  in  the  rear  of  Le  Gros,  the  other  taking 
Btand  behind  the  Irishman. 

As  already  stated,  there  was  no  great  inequality  be* 
tween  them  in  point  of  numbers ;  and  as  each  occupied  an 
end  of  the  raft,  the  balance  was  preserved,  and  the  stage 
upon  which  the  death  drama  was  about  to  be  enacted  —  set 
horizontally  —  offered  no  advantage  to  either. 

Knives  were  to  be  theii-  weapons.     There  were  others  on 

12 


266  THfc,  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

the  raft.  There  were  axes,  cutlasses,  and  harpoons ;  but  tin 
use  of  these  was  prohibited  to  either  of  the  intended  combat- 
ants :  as  nothing  could  be  fairer  than  the  sailor's  knife,  — 
with  which  each  was  provided,  —  and  no  weapon  in  close 
combat  could  be  used  with  more  certain  or  deadlier  effect. 

Each  armed  with  his  own  knife,  released  from  its  lanyard 
fastenings  in  order  to  be  freely  handled,  —  each  with  his  foot 
planted  in  front  of  him,  to  guard  against  the  onset  of  his  ad- 
versary, —  each  with  an  arm  upraised,  at  the  end  of  which 
appeared  six  inches  of  sharp,  glittering  steel,  —  each  with 
muscles  braced  to  their  toughest  tension,  and  eyes  glaring 
forth  the  fires  of  a  mutual  hatred,  —  a  hostility  to  end  only 
in  death,  —  such  became  the  attitude  of  the  antagonists. 

Behind  each  stood  their  respective  partisans,  in  a  sort  of 
semicircle,  of  which  the  champion  was  in  the  centre,  —  all 
eagerly  intent  on  watching  the  movements  of  the  two  men, 
one  of  whom  —  perhaps  both  —  was  about  to  be  hurried 
into  eternity. 

It  was  a  setting  sun  that  was  to  afford  light  for  this  fearfu\ 
conflict.  Already  was  the  golden  orb  declining  low  upon  the 
western  horizon.  His  disc  was  of  a  lurid  red,  —  a  color  ap- 
propriate to  the  spectacle  it  was  to  illumine.  No  wonder 
that  both  combatants  instinctively  turned  their  eyes  towards 
the  west,  and  gazed  upon  the  god  of  day.  Both  were 
under  the  belief  they  might  never  more  look  upon  thai 
luminary  I 


HATE  AGAINST  HATE.  267 

CHAPTER    LXXIII. 

HATE   AGAINST   HATE. 

THE  combatants  did  not  close  on  the  instant.  The  sharp 
blades  shining  in  their  hands  rendered  them  shy  of  a 
too  near  approach,  and  for  some  time  they  kept  apart.  They 
did  not,  however,  remain  motionless  or  inactive.  On  the 
contrary,  both  were  on  the  alert,  —  moving  in  short  curves 
from  one  side  to  the  other,  and  all  the  while  keeping 
vis-a-vis. 

At  irregular  intervals  one  of  them  would  make  a  feint  to 
attack ;  or  by  feigning  a  retreat  endeavor  to  get  the  other 
off  guard ;  but,  after  several  such  passes  and  counterpassea 
had  been  delivered  between  them,  still  not  a  scratch  had 
been  given,  —  not  a  drop  of  blood  drawn. 

The  spectators  looked  on  with  a  curious  interest.  Some 
showed  not  the  slightest  emotion,  —  as  if  they  cared  not  who 
should  be  the  victor,  or  which  the  victim.  To  most  it  mat- 
tered but  little  if  both  should  fall ;  and  there  were  even  some 
upon  the  raft  who,  for  certain  secret  reasons,  would  have 
preferred  such  a  termination  to  the  sanguinary  struggle. 

A  few  there  were  slightly  affected  with  feelings  of  parti- 
sanship. These  doubtless  felt  a  deeper  interest  in  the  result, 
at  least  they  were  more  demonstrative  of  it ;  and  by  words 
of  exhortation  and  cries  of  encouragement  endeavored  to  give 
support  to  their  respective  champions. 

There  were  spectators  of  a  different  kind,  that  appeared 
to  take  as  much  interest  in  the  fearful  affair  as  any  of  those 
already  described.  These  were  the  sharks  !  Looking  at 
them,  as  they  swam  around  the  raft,  —  their  eyes  glaring 
upon  those  who  occupied  it,  —  one  could  not  have  helped 
thinking  that  they  comprehended  what  was  going  on,  —  that 
they  were  conscious  of  a  deed  of  violence  about  to  be  enacted, 
—  and  were  waiting  for  some  contingercy  that  might  turn 
op  in  their  favor! 


268  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

Whatevsr  the  crisis  was  to  be,  neither  the  spectators  tn 
the  sea,  nor  those  upon  it,  would  have  long  to  wait  for  the 
crisis  Two  men,  mutually  enraged,  standing  in  front  of  each 
other,  armed  with  naked  knives ;  each  desperately  desirsus 
of  killing  the  other,  —  with  no  one  to  keep  them  apart,  but  a 
score  of  spectators  to  encourage  them  in  their  intent  of  recip- 
rocal destruction,  —  were  not  likely  to  be  long  in  coming  to 
the  end  of  the  affair.  It  was  not  a  question  of  swords,  where 
skilful  fencing  may  protract  a  combat  to  an  indefinite  period 
of  time ;  nor  of  pistols,  where  unskilful  shooting  may  equally 
retard  the  result  The  combatants  knew  that,  on  closing 
within  arms'  length,  one  or  other  must  receive  a  wound  that 
might  in  a  moment  prove  mortal. 

It  was  this  thought  that  —  for  some  minutes  after  their 
squaring  up  to  each  other  —  had  influenced  them  to  keep 
at  a  wary  distance. 

The  cries  of  their  companions  began  to  assume  an  altered 
tone.  Mingled  with  shouts  of  exhortation  could  be  heard 
taunts  and  jeers,  —  several  voices  proclaiming  that  the  "  two 
bullies  were  afraid  of  each  other. " 

"  Go  in,  Le  Gros !  give  him  the  knife ! "  cried  the  partisans 
of  the  Frenchman. 

"  Come,  Larry !  lay  on  to  him ! "  shouted  the  backers  of 
his  antagonist. 

"  Bear  a  hand,  both  of  you !  go  it  like  men ! "  vociferated 
the  voice  of  some  one,  who  did  not  seem  particularly  affected 
to  the  side  of  either. 

These  off-hand  counsels,  spoken  in  a  varied  vocabulary  of 
tongues,  seemed  to  produce  the  desired  effect.  As  the  last 
of  them  pealed  over  the  heads  of  the  spectators,  the  com- 
batants rushed  towards  each  other,  —  as  they  closed  inflicting 
a  mutual  stab.  But  the  blade  of  each  was  met  by  the  left 
arm  of  his  antagonist,  thrown  out  to  ward  off  the  stroke? 
and  they  separated  again  without  either  having  received 
farther  injury  than  a  flesh  wound,  that  in  no  way  disabled 


HATE  AGAINST  HATE.  269 

them.  It  appeared,  however,  to  produce  an  irritation,  which 
rendered  both  cf  them  less  careful  of  consequences :  tor  in 
an  instant  after  they  closed  again,  —  the  spectators  accom 
panying  their  collision  with  shouts  of  encouragement. 

All  were  now  looking  for  a  quick  termination  to  the  affair ; 
but  in  this  they  were  disappointed.  After  several  random 
thrusts  had  been  given  on  both  sides,  the  combatants  again 
became  separated  without  either  having  received  any  serious 
injury.  The  wild  rage  which  blinded  both,  rendering  their 
blows  uncertain,  —  combined  with  the  weakness  of  their 
bodies  from  long  starvation,  —  may  account  for  their  thus 
separating  for  the  second  time,  without  either  having  re- 
ceived a  mortal  wound. 

Equally  innocuous  proved  the  third  encounter,  —  though 
differing  in  character  from  either  of  those  that  preceded  it. 
As  they  came  together,  each  grasped  the  right  arm  o?  his 
antagonist,  —  that  which  wielded  the  weapon,  —  in  his  left 
hand ;  and  firmly  holding  one  another  by  the  wrists,  they 
continued  the  strife.  In  this  way  it  was  no  longer  a  contest 
of  skill,  but  of  strength.  Nor  was  it  at  all  dangerous,  as  long 
as  the  "  grip  "  held  good ;  since  neither  could  use  his  knife. 
Either  could  have  let  go  with  his  left  hand  at  any  moment ; 
but  by  so  doing  he  would  release  the  armed  hand  of  his 
antagonist,  and  thus  place  himself  in  imminent  peril. 

Both  were  conscious  of  the  danger;  and,  instead  of  sepa- 
rating, they  continued  to  preserve  the  reciprocal  "  clutch  " 
that  had  been  established  between  them. 

For  some  minutes  they  struggled  in  this  strange  fashion, 
—  the  intention  of  each  being  to  throw  the  other  upon  the 
raft.  That  done,  he  who  should  be  uppermost  would  obtain 
a  decided  advantage. 

They  twisted,  and  turned,  and  wriggled  their  bodies  about; 
but  both  still  managed  to  keep  upon  their  feet. 

The  contest  was  not  carried  on  in  any  particular  spot } 
bat  all  over  the  raft  ^  up  against  the  mast,  around  the  empty 


270  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

casks,  among  the  osseous  relics  of  humanity,  —  the  strewed 
bones  rattling  against  their  feet  as  they  trod  over  them. 
The  spectators  made  way  as  they  came  nearer,  nimbly  leap- 
ing from  side  to  side ;  while  the  stage  upon  which  this  fear- 
ful drama  was  being  enacted,  —  despite  the  ballast  of  its 
water-logged  beams,  and  the  buoyancy  of  its  empty  casks,  — 
was  kept  in  a  continual  commotion. 

It  soon  became  evident  that  Le  Gros  was  likely  to  get 
the  worst  of  it,  in  this  trial  of  strength.  The  muscular 
power  of  the  Frenchman  was  inferior  to  that  of  his  island 
antagonist;  and  had  it  been  a  mere  contest  of  toughness, 
the  former  would  have  been  defeated. 

In  craft,  however,  Le  Gros  was  the  Irishman's  superior : 
and  at  this  crisis  stratagem  came  to  his  aid. 

In  turning  about,  the  Frenchman  had  got  his  head  close 
to  the  sleeve  of  O'Gorman's  jacket,  —  that  one  which  en- 
circled his  right  wrist,  and  touched  the  hand  holding  the 
dangerous  knife.  Suddenly  craning  his  neck  to  its  fullest 
stretch,  he  seized  the  sleeve  between  his  teeth,  and  held  it 
with  all  the  strength  of  his  powerful  jaws.  Quick  as  thought, 
his  left  hand  glided  towards  his  own  right ;  his  knife  was 
transferred  to  it ;  and  the  next  moment  gleamed  beneath, 
threatening  to  penetrate  the  bosom  of  his  antagonist. 

O'Gorman's  fate  appeared  to  be  sealed.  With  both  arms 
pinioned,  what  chance  had  he  to  avoid  the  blow  ?  The  spec- 
tators, silent  and  breathless,  looked  for  it  as  a  certain  thing 
There  was  scarce  time  for  them  to  utter  an  exclamation,  be- 
fore they  were  again  subjected  to  surprise  at  seeing  the 
Irishman  escape  from  his  perilous  position. 

Fortunate  it  was  for  him,  that  the  cloth  of  his  pea-jacket 
was  not  of  the  best  quality.  It  had  never  been,  even  when 
new ;  and  now,  after  long-continued  and  ill  usage,  it  was 
almost  rotten.  For  this  reason,  by  a  desperate  wrench,  he 
was  enabled  to  release  his  arm  from  the  dental  grip  which 
his  antagonist  had  taken  upon  it,  —  leaving  only  a  rag  be- 
tween the  Frenchman's  teeth. 


HATE  AUAINST  HATE.  271 

The  circumstances  had  suddenly  changed !  the  advantage 
being  now  on  the  side  of  the  Irishman.  Not  only  was  his 
right  arm  free  again;  but  with  the  other  he  still  retained 
his  hold  upon  that  of  his  antagonist.  Le  Gros  could  only 
use  his  weapon  with  the  left  arm;  which  placed  him  at  a 
disadvantage. 

The  shouts  that  had  gone  up  to  hail  the  Frenchman's 
success  —  so  late  appearing  certain  —  had  become  suddenly 
hushed ;  and  once  more  the  contest  proceeded  in  silence. 

It  lasted  but  a  few  seconds  longer;  and  then  was  it  ter- 
minated in  a  manner  unexpected  by  all. 
-  Beyond  doubt,  0' Gorman  would  have  been  the  victor, 
had  it  ended  as  everyone  was  anticipating  it  would,  —  in 
the  death  of  one  or  other  of  the  combatants.  As  it  chanced, 
however,  neither  succumbed  in  that  sanguinary  strife.  Both 
were  preserved  for  a  fate  equally  fearful :  one,  indeed,  for  a 
death  ten  times  more  terrible. 

As  I  have  said,  the  circumstances  had  turned  in  favor  cf 
the  Irishman.  He  knew  it ;  and  was  not  slow  to  avail  him 
self  of  the  advantage. 

Still  retaining  his  grasp  of  Le  Gros's  right  wrist,  he  plied 
his  own  dexter  arm  with  a  vigor  that  promised  soon  to 
settle  the  affair ;  while  the  left  arm  of  the  Frenchman  could 
offer  only  a  feeble  resistance,  either  by  thrusting  or  parrying. 

Their  knife-blades  came  frequently  in  collision ;  and  for  a 
few  passes  neither  appeared  to  give  or  receive  a  wound 
This  innocuous  sparring,  however,  was  of  short  continuance 
and  ended  by  the  Irishman  making  a  dexterous  stroke,  by 
which  his  blade  was  planted  in  the  hand  of  his  antagonist, 
—  transfixing  the  very  fingers  which  were  grasping  the 
knife! 

The  weapon  fell  from  his  relaxed  clutch ;  and  passing 
through  the  interstices  of  the  timber,  sank  to  the  bottom  of 
the  seal 

A  scream  of  despair  escaped  from  the  lips  of  the  French 


272  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

man,  as  ne  saw  the  blade  of  his  antagonist  about  to  b« 
thrust  into  his  body! 

The  thrust  was  threatened,  but  not  made.  Before  it 
could  be  given,  a  hand  interfered  to  prevent  it.  One  of  the 
spectators  had  seized  the  uplifted  arm  of  the  Irishman,— 
at  the  same  time  vociferating,  in  a  stentorian  voice,  — • 

u  Don't  kill  him !  we  won't  need  to  eat  him !  Look 
yonder !  We  're  saved  !  we  're  saved ! " 


CHAPTER    LXXIV. 

A  LIGHT! 

THE  man  who  had  so  unexpectedly  interrupted  the 
deadly  duello,  while  giving  utterance  to  his  strange 
speech,  kept  one  of  his  arms  extended  towards  the  ocean,  — 
as  if  pointing  to  something  he  had  descried  above  the 
horizon. 

The  eyes  of  all  were  suddenly  turned  in  the  direction 
thus  indicated.  The  magic  words,  ''  We  are  saved ! "  had 
an  immediate  effect,  —  not  only  upon  the  spectators  of  the 
tragedy  thus  intruded  upon,  but  upon  its  actors.  Even  ran- 
cor became  appeased  by  the  sweet  sound ;  and  that  of  the 
Irishman,  as  with  most  of  his  countrymen,  being  born  "  as 
the  flint  bears  fire,"  subsided  on  the  instant. 

,He  permitted  his  upraised  arm  to  be  held  in  restraint;  it 
became  relaxed,  as  did  also  his  grasp  on  the  wrist  of  his  an- 
tagonist ;  while  the  latter,  finding  himself  free,  was  allowed 
to  retire  from  the  contest. 

O'Gorman,  among  the  rest,  had  faced  round ;  and  stood 
looking  in  the  direction  where  somebody  had  seen  some' 
thing  that  promised  salvation  of  all. 


A  LIGHT!  278 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  inquired  several  voices  in  the  same  breath, 
—  "the  land?" 

No :  it  could  not  be  that.  There  was  not  one  of  them 
such  a  nautical  ignoramus  as  to  believe  himself  within  sigh* 
of  land. 

"A  sail?  — a  ship?" 

That  was  more  likely :  though,  at  the  first  glance,  neither 
•ail  nor  ship  appeared  upon  the  horizon. 

u  What  is  it  ? "  was  the  interrogatory  reiterated  by  a 
dozen  voices. 

"  A  light !  Don't  you  see  it  ?  "  asked  the  lynx-eyed  in- 
dividual, whose  interference  in  the  combat  had  caused  this 
sudden  departure  from  the  programme.  "  Look  ! "  he  con- 
tinued; "just  where  the  sun's  gone  down  yonder.  It's 
only  a  speck ;  but  I  can  see  it  plain  enough.  It  must  be 
the  light  from  a  ship's  binnacle  !  " 

"  Carrajo !  "  exclaimed  a  Spaniard ;  "  it 's  only  a  spark 
the  sun 's  left  behind  him.  It 's  the  ignis  fatuus  you  've 
seen,  amigo!" 

"  Bah ! "  added  another ;  "  supposing  it  is  a  binnacle- 
lamp,  as  you  say,  what  would  be  the  use,  except  to  tantalize 
us.  If  it  be  in  the  binnacle,  in  course  the  ship  as  carries  it 
must  be  stern  towards  us.  What  chance  would  there  be  of 
our  overhaulin'  her  ?  " 

"Par  Dieu!  there  be  von  light!"  cried  a  sharp-eyed 
little  Frenchman.  "  Pe  Gar !  I  him  see.  Ver  true,  vraiment  I 
An  —  pe  dam !  —  zat  same  est  no  lamp  in  ze  binnacle  1 " 

"  I  see  it  too ! "  cried  another. 

"And  I!"  added  a  third. 

"  lo  tambien!"  (I  also)  echoed  a  fourth,  whose  tongue 
proclaimed  him  of  Spanish  nativity. 

"Ich  sehe!"  drawled  out  a  native  of  the  German  Con- 
federacy ;  and  then  followed  a  volley  of  voices,  —  each 
gaying  something  to  confirm  the  belief  that  a  light  wai 
re&lly  gleaming  ovec  the  ocean. 


274  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

This  was  a  fact  that  nobody  —  not  even  the  first  object 
ors  —  any  longer  doubted. 

It  is  true  that  the  light  seen  appeared  only  a  mere  sparkle, 
feebly  glimmering  against  the  sky,  and  might  have  been 
mistaken  for  a  star.  But  it  was  just  in  that  part  of  the 
heavens  where  a  star  could  not  at  that  time  have  been  seen, 
—  on  the  western  horizon,  still  slightly  reddened  by  the  rays 
of  the  declining  sun. 

The  men  who  speculated  upon  its  appearance,  —  rude  as 
..hey  were  in  a  moral  sense,  —  were  not  so  intellectually  stu- 
pid as  to  mistake  for  a  star  that  speck  of  yellowish  hue, 
.•fruggling  to  reveal  itself  against  the  almost  kindred  color 
*/f  the  occidental  sky. 

u  It  is  n't  a  star,  —  that 's  certain,"  confidently  declared 
one  of  their  number ;  "  and  if  it  be  a  light  aboard  ship,  it 's 
no  binnacle-lamp,  I  say.  Bah  !  who  'd  call  that  a  binnacle 
glim,  or  a  lamp  of  any  kind?  If 't  be  a  ship's  light  at  all, 
it 's  the  glare  o'  the  galley-fire,  —  where  the  cook  's  makin' 
coffee  for  all  hands." 

The  superb  picture  of  comfort  thus  called  forth  was  too 
much  for  the  temper  of  the  starving  men,  to  whom  the  idea 
was  addressed  ;  and  a  wild  cry  of  exultation  responded  to 
the  speech. 

A  galley  ;  a  galley -fire  ;  a  cook  ;  coffee  for  all  hands  ;  lob- 
gcouse  ;  plum-duff;  sea-pies;  even  the  much-despised  pea- 
soup  and  salt  junk,  had  been  long  looked  upon  as  things 
belonging  to  another  world,  —  pleasures  of  the  past,  never 
more  to  be  indulged  in  ! 

Now  that  the  gleam  of  a  galley-fire  —  as  they  believed 
the  light  to  be  —  rose  up  before  their  eyes,  the  spirits  of  all 
became  suddenly  electrified  by  the  wildest  imaginings ;  ani 
the  contest  so  lately  carried  on,  —  as  well  as  the  combatants 
engaged  in  it,  —  was  instantaneously  forgotten;  while  the 
thoughts,  and  eager  glances,  of  every  individual  on  the  raft 
were  now  directed  towards  that  all-absorbing  speck,  —  still 


TOWARDS  THE  BEACON.  276 

gleaming  but  obscurely  against  the  reddish  background  of 
the  sun-stained  horizon. 

As  they  continued  to  gaze,  the  tiny  spark  seemed  to 
increase,  not  only  in  size,  but  intensity ;  and,  before  many 
minutes  had  elapsed,  it  proclaimed  itself  no  longer  a  mer« 
spark,  but  a  blaze  of  light,  with  its  own  luminous  halo 
around  it. 

The  gradual  chastening  of  color  in  the  western  sky,  along 
with  the  increased  darkness  of  the  atmosphere  around  it, 
would  account  for  this  change  in  the  appearance  of  the  light 

So  reasoned  the  spectators,  —  now  more  than  ever  con- 
vinced that  what  they  saw  was  the  glare  of  a  galley -fire 


CHAPTER    LXXV. 

TOWARDS   THE   BEACON! 

AS  soon  as  they  were  satisfied  that  the  bright  spark 
upon  the  horizon  was  a  burning  light,  every  individual 
on  the  raft  became  inspired  with  the  same  impulse,  —  to 
make  for  the  spot  where  the  object  appeared.  Whether  in 
the  galley  or  not,  —  and  whether  the  glow  of  a  fire  or  the 
gleam  of  a  lamp,  —  it  must  be  on  board  a  ship.  There  was 
no  land  in  that  part  of  the  ocean ;  and  a  light  could  not  be 
burning  upon  the  water,  without  something  in  the  shape  of  a 
chip  to  carry  it. 

That  it  was  a  ship,  no  one  for  a  moment  doubted.  So 
sure  were  they,  that  several  of  the  men,  on  the  moment  of 
making  it  out,  had  vociferated,  at  the  top  of  their  voices, 
»  Ship  ahoy ! " 

The  voices  of  none  of  them  were  particularly  strong  just 
then.  They  were  weal".,  in  proportion  to  their  attenuated 


276  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

frames ;  but  bad  they  been  ten  times  as  strong  as  tbey  wer«, 
they  could  not  have  been  heard  at  such  a  distance  as  that 
light  was  separated  from  the  raft. 

It  was  not  less  than  twenty  miles  from  them.  In  the  ex- 
cited state  of  their  senses,  —  arising  from  thirst,  starvation, 
and  all  the  wild  emotions  which  the  discovery  itself  had 
roused  within  them,  —  they  had  formed  a  delusive  idea  of 
the  distance;  many  of  them  fancying  that  the  light  was 
quite  near ! 

There  were  some  among  them  who  reasoned  more  ration- 
ally. These,  instead  of  wasting  their  strength  in  idle  shout- 
ing, employed  their  time  in  impressing  upon  the  others  the 
necessity  of  making  some  exertion  to  approach  the  light. 

Some  thought  that  much  exertion  would  not  be  required  ; 
as  the  light  appeared  to  be  approaching  them.  And,  in 
truth,  it  did  appear  so ;  but  the  wiser  ones  knew  that  this 
might  be  only  an  optical  illusion,  —  caused  by  the  sea  and 
sky  each  moment  assuming  a  more  sombre  hue. 

These  last — both  with  voice  and  by  their  example  — 
urged  their  companions  to  use  every  effort  towards  coming 
up  with  what  they  were  sure  must  be  a  ship. 

"  Let  us  meet  her,"  they  said,  "  if  she  's  standing  this 
way;  if  not,  we  must  do  all  we  can  to  overtake  her." 

It  needed  no  persuasion  to  put  the  most  slothful  of  the 
crew  upon  their  mettle.  A  new  hope  of  life,  —  an  unex- 
pected prospect  of  being  rescued  from  what  most  of  them 
had  been  contemplating  as  almost  certain  death,  —  inspired 
all  to  the  utmost  effort ;  and  with  an  alacrity  they  had  never 
before  exhibited  in  their  raft  navigation,  —  and  a  unanimity 
of  late  unknown  to  them,  —  they  went  to  work  to  propel 
their  clumsy  craft  across  the  ocean. 

Some  sprang  to  the  oars,  while  others  assisted  at  the  sail, 
For  days  the  latter  had  received  no  attention ;  but  had  been 
permitted  to  hang  loosely  from  the  mast,  —  flopping  about 
in  whatever  way  the  breeze  chanced  to  blow  it.  They  had 


TOWARDS  THE  BEACON!  277 

entertained  no  idea  of  what  course  they  ought  to  steer  in; 
or  if  they  did  think  of  a  direction,  they  had  not  sufficient 
decision  to  follow  it.  For  days  they  had  been  drifting  about 
over  the  surface  of  the  sea,  at  the  discretion  of  the  currents. 

Now  the  sail  was  reset,  with  all  the  trimness  that  circum- 
stances would  admit  of.  The  sheets  were  drawn  home  and 
made  fast ;  and  the  mast  was  stayed  taut,  so  as  to  hinder  it 
from  slanting. 

As  the  object  upon  which  they  were  directing  their  course 
was  not  exactly  to  leeward,  it  was  necessary  to  manage  the 
sail  with  the  wind  slightly  abeam  ;  and  for  this  purpose  two 
men  were  appointed  to  the  rudder,  —  which  consisted  of  a 
broad  plank,  poised  on  its  edge  and  hitched  to  the  stern 
timbers  of  the  raft.  By  means  of  this  rude  rudder,  they 
were  enabled  to  keep  the  raft  "  head  on  "  towards  the  light. 

The  rowers  were  seated  along  both  sides.  Nearly  every 
individual  of  the  crew,  who  was  not  occupied  at  the  sail  or 
steering-board,  was  employed  in  propelling.  A  few  only 
were  provided  with  oars ;  others  wielded  handspikes,  cap- 
stan-bars, or  pieces  of  split  plank,  —  in  short,  anything  that 
would  assist  in  the  "  pulling,"  if  only  to  the  value  of  a 
pound. 

It  was,  —  or,  at  all  events,  they  thought  it  was,  —  a  life 
and  death  struggle.  They  were  sure  that  a  ship  was  near 
them.  By  reaching  her  they  would  be  saved ;  by  failing  to 
do  so  they  would  be  doomed.  Another  day  without  food 
would  bring  death,  at  least  to  one  of  *hem ;  another  day 
without  water  would  bring  worse  than  death  to  almost  every 
man  of  them. 

Their  unanimous  action,  assisted  by  the  broad  sail,  caused 
the  craft,  cumbersome  as  it  was,  to  make  considerable  way 
through  the  water,  —  though  by  far  too  slow  to  satisfy  their 
wishes.  At  times  they  kept  silent ;  at  times  their  voices 
could  be  heard  mingled  with  the  plunging  of  the  oars ;  and 
loo  often  only  in  profane  speech. 


278       _  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

They  cursed  the  craft  upon  which  they  were  carried,  — • 
its  clumsiness,  —  the  slowness  with  which  they  were  making 
way  towards  the  ship,  —  the  ship  itself,  for  not  making  way 
towards  them :  for,  as  they  continued  on,  those  who  formerly 
believed  that  the  light  was  approaching  them,  no  longer  held 
to  that  faith.  On  the  contrary,  after  rowing  nearly  an  hour, 
all  were  too  ready  to  agree  in  the  belief  that  the  ship  was 
wearing  away. 

Not  an  instant  passed,  without  the  eyes  of  some  one  being 
directed  towards  the  light.  The  rowers,  whose  backs  were 
turned  upon  it,  kept  occasionally  twisting  their  necks  around, 
and  looking  over  their  shoulders,  —  only  to  resume  their 
proper  attitudes  with  countenances  that  expressed  disappoint- 
ment. 

There  were  not  wanting  voices  to  speak  discouragement 
Some  declared  that  the  light  was  growing  less ;  that  the 
ship  was  in  full  sail,  going  away  from  them  ;  and  that  there 
would  not  be  the  slightest  chance  of  their  coming  up  with 
her. 

These  were  men  who  began  to  feel  fatigued  at  the  oar. 

There  were  even  some  who  professed  to  doubt  the  ex« 
istence  of  a  ship,  or  a  ship's  light.  What  they  saw  waa 
only  a  bright  spot  upon  the  ocean,  —  some  luminous  object,  — 
perhaps  the  carcass  of  some  phosphorous  fish,  or  "  squid," 
floating  upon  the  surface.  They  had  many  of  them  seen 
such  things  ;  and  the  conjecture  was  not  offered  to  in- 
credulous ears. 

These  surmises  produced  discontent,  —  which  in  time 
would  have  exhibited  itself  in  the  gradual  dropping  of  the 
oars,  but  for  a  circumstance  which  brought  this  climax  about, 
in  a  more  sudden  and  simultaneous  manner,  —  the  extinction 
of  the  light ! 

It  went  out  while  the  eyes  of  several  were  fixed  upon 
it ;  not  by  any  gradual  disappearance,  —  as  a  waning  star 
might  have  passed  out  of  sight,  —  but  with  a  quick  u  fluff  "j 


A  DOUBLE  DARKNESS.  279 

—  so  one  of  the  spectators  described  it,  —  likening  its  ex 
tinction  to  "a  tub  of  salt  water  thrown  over  the  gailey- 
fire." 

On  the  instant  of  its  disappearance,  the  oars  were  aban- 
doned,—  as  also  the  rudder.  It  would  have  been  idle  to 
attempt  steering  any  longer.  There  was  neither  moon  nor 
stars  in  the  sky.  The  light  was  the  only  thing  that  had 
been  guiding  them  ;  and  that  gone,  they  had  not  the  slight- 
est clew  as  to  their  course.  The  breeze  was  buffeting  about 
in  every  direction  ;  but,  even  had  it  been  blowing  steadily, 
every  one  of  them  knew  how  uncertain  it  would  be  to  trust 
to  its  guidance,  —  especially  with  such  a  sail,  and  such  a 
steering  apparatus. 

Already  half  convinced  that  they  had  been  following  an 
ignis  fatuus,  —  and  half  resolved  to  give  over  the  pursuit, 

—  it  needed  only  what  had  occurred  to  cause  a  complete 
abandonment  of  their  nocturnal  navigation. 

Once  more  giving  way  to  despair,  —  expressed  in  wild 
wicked  worda,  —  they  left  the  sail  to  itself,  and  the  winds  to 
waft  them  to  whatever  spot  of  the  ocean  fate  had  designed 
for  the  closing  scene  of  their  wretched  existence. 


CHAPTER    LXXVI. 

A   DOUBLE   DARKNESS. 

THE   night  was  a  dark  one  ;   by  a  Spanish  figure  of 
speech,  comparable  to  a  "  pot  of  pitch." 
It  was  scarce  further  obscured  by  a  thick  fog  that  shortly 
after  came  silently  over  the  surface  of  the  ocean,  envelop- 
ing the  great  raft  along  with  its  ruffian  crew. 

Through  such  an  atmosphere  nothing  could  l>e  seen,  —  not 
even  the  light,  had  it  continued  to  burn. 


280  THE   OCEAN  WAIFS. 

Before  the  coming  on  of  the  fog,  they  had  kept  a  look-ou( 
for  the  light,  —  one  or  other  remaining  always  on  the  waU  h. 
They  had  done  so,  with  a  sort  of  despairing  hope  that  it 
might  reappear ;  but,  as  the  surrounding  atmosphere  became 
impregnated  with  the  filmy  vapor,  this  dreary  vigilance  waa 
gradually  relaxed,  and  at  length  abandoned  altogether. 

So  thick  fell  the  fog  during  the  mid-hours  of  the  night, 
that  nothing  could  be  seen  at  the  distance  of  over  six  feet 
from  the  eye.  Even  they  who  occupied  the  raft  could  only 
distinguish  those  who  were  close  by  their  side  ;  and  each 
appeared  to  the  others  as  if  shrouded  under  a  screen  of 
gray  gauze. 

The  darkness  did  not  hinder  them  from  conversing.  As 
nearly  all  hope  of  succor  from  a  supposed  ship  had  been 
extinguished,  along  with  that  fanciful  light,  it  was  but  natural 
that  their  thoughts  should  lapse  into  some  other  channel ; 
and  equally  so,  that  they  should  turn  back  to  that  from  which 
they  had  been  so  unexpectedly  diverted. 

Hunger,  —  keen,  craving  hunger,  —  easily  transported 
them  to  the  spectacle  which  the  sheen  of  that  false  torch 
had  brought  to  an  unsatisfactory  termination  ;  and  their 
minds  now  dwelt  on  what  would  have  been  the  different 
condition  of  affair?,  had  they  not  yielded  to  the  delusion. 

Not  only  had  their  thoughts  reference  to  this  theme,  but 
their  speeches ;  and  in  the  solemn  hour  of  midnight,  —  in 
the  midst  of  that  gloomy  vapor,  darkly  overshadowing  the 
great  deep,  —  they  might  have  been  heard  again  discussing 
the  awful  question,  "  Who  dies  next  ?  " 

To  arrive  at  a  decision  was  not  so  difficult  as  before.  The 
majority  of  the  men  had  made  up  their  minds  as  to  the 
course  that  should  be  pursued.  It  was  no  longer  a  question 
of  casting  lots.  That  had  been  done  already ;  and  the  two 
who  had  not  yet  drawn  clear  —  and  betwMr<  whom  th« 
thing  still  remained  undecided  — -were  undouoiedly  the  indi- 
viduals to  determine  the  matte1*. 


A   DOUBLE  DARKNESS.  28l 

Indeed,  there  was  no  debate.  All  were  unanimous  thai 
either  Le  Gros  or  O'Gorman  should  furnish  food  for  their 
famishing  companions,  —  in  other  words,  that  the  combat,  so 
unexpectedly  postponed,  should  be  again  resumed. 

There  was  nothing  unfair  in  this,  —  except  to  the  Irish 
man.  He  had  certainly  secured  his  triumph,  when  inter- 
rupted. If  another  half-second  had  been  allowed  him,  hia 
antagonist  would  have  lain  lifeless  at  his  feet. 

Under  the  judgment  of  just  umpires  this  circumstance 
would  have  weighed  in  his  favor ;  and,  perhaps,  exempted 
him  from  any  further  risk ;  but,  tried  by  the  shipwrecked 
crew  of  a  slaver,  —  more  than  a  moiety  of  whom  leaned 
towards  his  antagonist,  — the  sentence  was  different;  and 
the  majority  of  the  judges  proclaimed  that  the  combat  be- 
tween him  and  Le  Gros  should  be  renewed,  and  continued 
to  the  death. 

The  renewal  of  it  was  not  to  take  place  on  the  moment. 
Night  and  darkness  both  forbade  this;  but  the  morning's 
earliest  light  was  to  witness  the  resumption  of  that  terriblo 
strife. 

Thus  resolved,  the  ex-crew  of  the  Pandora  laid  themselves 
down  to  sleep,  —  not  quite  so  calmly  as  they  might  have  done 
in  the  forecastle  of  the  slaver ;  for  thirst,  hunger,  and  fears 
for  a  hopeless  future,  —  without  saying  anything  of  a  hard 
couch,  —  were  not  the  companions  with  which  to  approach 
the  shrine  of  Somnus.  As  a  counterpoise,  they  felt  lassitude 
both  of  mind  and  body,  approaching  to  prostration. 

Some  of  them  slept.  Some  of  them  could  have  slept 
within  the  portals  of  Pluto,  with  the  dog  Cerberus  yelping 
in  their  ears! 

A  few  there  were  who  seemed  either  unable  to  take  rest 
or  indifferent  to  it.  All  night  long  some  one  or  other  — 
sometimes  two  at  a  time  —  might  be  seen  staggering  about 
the  raft,  or  crawling  over  its  planks,  as  if  unconscious  of 
what  they  were  doing.  It  seemed  ,1  wonder  that  some  of 


232  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

them  —  semi-somnambulists  in  a  double  sense  —  did  not  fall 
overboard  into  the  water.  But  they  did  not.  Notwithstand- 
ing the  eccentricity  of  their  movements,  they  all  succeeded 
in  maintaining  their  position  on  the  raft.  To  tumble  over 
its  edge  would  have  been  tantamount  to  toppling  into  the 
jaws  of  an  expectant  shark,  and  getting  "  scrunched  "  be- 
tween no  less  than  six  rows  of  sharp  teeth.  Perhaps  it  was 
an  instinct  —  or  some  presentiment  of  this  peril  —  that  en- 
abled these  wakeful  wanderers  to  preserve  their  equilib- 
rium. 


CHAPTER    LXXVII. 

A   WHISPERED    CONSPIRACY. 

fTl  HOUGH  most  of  the  men  had  surrendered  themselves 
J|.  to  such  slumber  as  they  might  obtain,  the  silence  was 
neither  profound  nor  continuous.  At  times  no  sounds  were 
heard  save  the  whisperings  of  the  breeze,  as  it  brushed 
against  the  spread  canvas,  or  a  slight  "swashing"  in  the 
water  as  it  was  broken  by  the  rough  timbers  of  the 
craft. 

These  sounds  were  intermingled  with  the  loud  breathing 
of  some  of  the  sleepers,  —  an  occasional  snore,  —  and  now 
and  then  a  muttered  speech  the  involuntary  utterance  of 
some  one  dreaming  a  dreadful  dream. 

At  intervals  other  noises  would  arise,  when  one  or  more 
of  the  waking  castaways  chanced  to  come  together,  to  hold 
a  short  conversation ;  or  when  one  of  them,  scarce  conscious 
of  what  he  did,  stumbled  over  the  limbs  of  a  prostrate  com- 
rade, —  perhaps  awaking  him  from  a  pleasant  repose  to  the 
consciousness  of  the  painful  ciicumstancea  under  which  ha 
tad  been  enjoying  it. 


A  WHISPERED  CONSPIRACY.  283 

Such  occurrences  usually  led  to  angry  altercations,  —  in 
which  threats  and  ribald  language  would  for  some  minutes 
freely  find  vent  from  the  lips  both  of  the  disturbed  and  the 
disturber;  and  then  both  would  growlingly  subside  into 
silence. 

At  that  hour,  when  the  night  was  at  its  darkest,  and  the 
fog  at  ita  thickest,  two  men  might  have  been  seen,  —  though 
only  by  an  eye  very  close  to  where  they  were,  —  in  a  sitting 
posture  at  the  bottom  of  the  mast.  They  were  crouching 
rather  than  seated;  for  they  were  upon  their  knees,  with 
their  bodies  bent  forward,  and  one  or  both  of  their  hands 
~"V*3R  upon  the  planks. 

xVie  attitude  was  plainly  not  one  of  repose ;  and  any  one 
near  enough  to  have  observed  the  two  men,  or  to  have  heard 
the  whispered  conversation  that  was  being  carried  on  between 
them,  would  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  sleep  was  far 
from  their  thoughts. 

In  that  deep  darkness,  however,  no  one  noticed  them ; 
and  although  several  of  their  companions  were  lying  but  a 
few  feet  from  the  bottom  of  the  mast,  these  were  eithet 
asleep  or  too  distant  to  hear  the  whisperings  that  passed 
between  the  two  men  kneeling  in  juxtaposition. 

They  continued  to  talk  in  very  low  whispers,  —  each  in 
turn  putting  his  lips  close  to  the  ear  of  the  other;  and 
while  doing  so  the  subject  of  their  conversation  might  have 
been  guessed  at  by  their  glances,  or  at  least  the  individual 
about  whom  they  conversed. 

This  was  a  man  who  was  lying  stretched  along  the  tim 
bers,  not  far  from  the  bottom  of  the  mast,  and  apparently 
•sleep.  In  fact  he  must  have  been  asleep,  as  was  testified 
by  the  stentorian  snores  that  occasionally  escaped  from  his 
wide-spread  nostrils. 

This  noisy  slumberer  was  the  Irishman,  O'Gorman,  —  one 
of  the  parties  to  that  suspended  fight,  to  be  resumed  by  day- 
break in  the  mornings  Whatever  evil  deeds  this  man  may 


284  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

have  done  during  his  life,  —  and  he  had  performed  not  a 
few,  for  we  have  styled  him  only  the  least  guilty  of  that 
guilty  crew,  —  he  was  certainly  no  coward.  Thus  to  sleep, 
with  such  a  prospect  on  awaking,  at  least  proved  him  reck- 
lessly indifferent  to  death. 

The  two  men  by  the  mast,  —  whose  eyes  were  evidently 
open  him,  —  had  no  very  clear  view  of  him  where  he  lay. 
Through  the  white  raist  they  could  see  only  something  like 
the  shape  of  a  human  being  recumbent  along  the  planks ; 
and  of  that  only  the  legs  and  lower  half  of  the  body.  Even 
had  it  been  daylight  they  could  not,  from  their  position,  have 
seen  his  head  and  shoulders  ;  for  both  would  have  bee*  '  •*• 
cealed  by  the  empty  rum-cask,  already  mentioned,  tk»_^ 
stood  upon  its  end  exactly  by  the  spot  where  O'Gorman  had 
rested  his  head. 

The  Irishman,  above  all  others,  had  taken  a  delight  in  the 
contents  of  that  cask,  —  so  long  as  a  drop  was  left ;  and 
now  that  it  was  all  gone,  perhaps  the  smell  of  the  alcohol 
had  influenced  him  in  choosing  his  place  of  repose. 

Whether  or  not,  he  was  now  sleeping  on  a  spot  which 
was  to  prove  the  last  resting-place  of  his  life.  Cruel  destiny 
had  decreed  that  from  that  slumber  he  was  never  more  to 
awaken ! 

-  This  destiny  was  now  being  shaped  out  for  him  ;  and  by 
the  two  individuals  who  were  regarding  him  from  the  bot- 
tom of  the  mast. 

"  He 's  sound  asleep,"  whispered  one  of  them  to  the  other. 
"  You  hear  that  snore  ?  Parbleu  !  only  a  hog  could  counteir- 
feit  that." 

"  Sound  as  a  top ! "  asserted  the  other. 

"  C'est  bon  !  "  whispered  the  first  speaker,  with  a  signifi- 
cant shrug  of  the  shoulders.  "  If  we  manage  matters 
smartly,  he  need  never  wake  again.  What  say  you,  com- 
rade?" 

"  I  agree  to  anything  you  may  propose,"  assented  thf 
Other.  "What  is  it?" 


A  WHISPERED   CONSPIRACY.  285 

*  There  need  be  no  noise  about  it.  A  single  blow  will  be 
Mifficient,  —  if  given  in  tbe  right  place.  With  the  blade  of 
8  knife  through  his  heart,  he  '11  not  make  three  kicks.  He  'II 
never  know  it  till  he  's  in  the  next  world.  Peste  !  I  :ould 
almost  envy  him  such  an  easy  way  of  getting  out  of  this  ! " 

"  You  think  it  might  be  done  without  making  a  noise  ?  " 

u  Easy  as  falling  overboard.  One  could  hold  something 
OTer  his  mouth,  to  keep  his  tongue  quiet ;  while  the  other  — 
You  know  what  I  mean  ?  " 

The  horrid  act  to  be  performed  by  the  other  was  left  un- 
spoken, —  even  in  those  confidential  whisperings. 

<f  But,"  replied  the  confederate,  objectingly,  "  suppose  the 
thing  done,  —  how  about  matters  in  the  morning  ?  They  'd 
know  who  did  it  Leastwise,  their  suspicions  would  fall  upon 
us,  —  upon  you  to  a  certainty,  after  what 's  happened.  Yon 
have  n't  thought  of  that  ?  " 

"  Have  n't  I  ?    But  I  have,  mon  ami  f " 

"Well;  and  what?" 

"  First  place.  They  're  not  in  the  mind  to  be  particular, 
—  none  of  them,  —  so  long  as  they  get  something  to  eat. 
Secondly ;  if  they  should  kick  up  a  row,  our  party  is  the 
strongest ;  and  I  don't  care  what  comes  of  it.  We  may  aa 
well  all  die  at  once,  as  die  by  bits." 

"  That 's  true  enough." 

"  But  there  's  no  fear  of  any  trouble  from  the  others. 
I've  got  an  idea  that'll  prevent  that.  To  save  appear- 
ances, he  can  commit  suicide." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Bah !  camarade  !  how  dull  you  are.  The  fog  has  got 
into  your  skull.  Don't  you  know  the  Irlandais  has  got  a 
knife,  and  a  sharp  one.  Peste  !  I  know  it.  Well,  —  per- 
haps it  can  be  stolen  from  him.  If  so,  it  can  also  b-i  found 
sticking  in  the  wound  that  will  deprive  liim  of  life  Now 
do  you  comprehend  me  ?  " 

«Ido,—  I  do!" 


286  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

u  First,  to  steal  the  knife.  Go  you :  I  dare  n't :  it  would 
look  suspicious  for  me  to  be  seen  near  him,  —  that  is,  if  he 
should  wake  up.  You  may  stray  over  that  way,  as  if  you 
were  after  nothing  particular.  It  '11  do  no  harm  to  try." 

"I'll  see  if  I  can  hook  it  then,"  responded  the  other. 
«  What  if  I  try  now  ?  " 

u  The  sooner  the  better.  With  the  knife  in  our  posses- 
sion, we  '11  know  better  how  to  act.  Get  it,  if  you  can." 

The  last  speaker  remained  in  his  place.  The  other,  rising 
into  an  erect  attitude,  stepped  apart  from  his  fellow-conspira- 
tor, and  moved  away  from  the  mast,  —  going  apparently 
without  any  design.  This,  however,  led  him  towards  the 
empty  rum-cask,  —  alongside  of  which  the  Irishman  lay 
asleep,  utterly  unconscious  of  his  approach. 


CHAPTER    LXXVIII. 

A   FOUL    DEED    DONE   IN   A   FOG. 

IT  is  scarce  necessary  to  tell  who  were  the  two  men  who 
had  been  thus  plotting  in  whispers.  The  first  speaker 
was,  of  course,  the  Frenchman,  Le  Gros,  —  the  other  being 
the  confederate  who  had  assisted  him  in  the  performance  of 
his  unfair  trick  in  the  lot-casting. 

Their  demoniac  design  is  already  known  from  their  con- 
versation, —  nothing  more  nor  less  than  to  murder  O'Gorman 
in  his  sleep ! 

The  former  had  two  motives  prompting  him  to  this  horrid 
crime,  —  either  sufficiently  strong  to  sway  such  a  nature  as 
his  to  its  execution.  He  had  all  along  felt  hostility  to  the 
Irishman,  —  which  the  events  of  that  day  had  rendered  both 
ieep  and  deadly.  He  war  wicked  enough  to  have  killed 


A  FOUL  DEED  DONE  IN  A  FOG.  287 

his  antagonist  for  that  alone.  But  there  was  the  other 
motive,  more  powerful  and  far  more  rational  to  influence 
him  to  the  act.  As  above  stated,  it  had  been  finally  ar- 
ranged that  the  suspended  fight  was  to  be  finished  by  the 
earliest  light  of  the  morning.  Le  Gros  knew  that  the  next 
scene  in  that  drama  of  death  was  to  be  the  last ;  and,  judg 
ing  from  his  experience  of  the  one  already  played,  he  felt 
keenly  apprehensive  as  to  the  result.  He  had  been  fully 
aware,  before  the  curtain  fell  upon  the  first  act,  that  his  life 
could  then  have  been  taken ;  and,  conscious  of  a  certain 
inferiority  to  his  antagonist,  he  now  felt  cowed,  and  dreaded 
the  final  encounter. 

To  avoid  it,  he  was  willing  to  do  anything,  however  mean 
or  wicked,  —  ready  to  commit  even  the  crime  of  murder ! 

He  knew  that  if  he  should  succeed  in  destroying  his  ad- 
versary,—  so  long  as  the  act  was  not  witnessed  by  their 
associates,  —  so  long  as  there  should  be  only  circumstantial 
evidence  against  him,  —  he  would  not  have  mu^h  to  fear 
from  such  judges  as  they.  It  was  simply  a  question  as  to 
whether  the  deed  could  be  done  silently  and  in  the  darkness ; 
and  that  question  was  soon  to  receive  an  answer. 

The  trick  of  killing  the  unfortunate  man  with  his  own 
knife,  —  and  making  it  appear  that  he  had  committed  self- 
destruction, —  would  have  been  too  shallow  to  have  been 
successful  under  any  other  circumstances ;  but  Le  Gros  felt 
confident  that  there  would  be  no  very  strict  investigation ; 
and  that  the  inquest  likely  to  be  held  on  the  murdered  man 
would  be  a  very  informal  affair. 

In  any  case,  the  risk  to  him  would  be  less  than  that  he 
might  expect  on  the  consummation  of  the  combat,  —  the 
finale  of  which  would  In  all  probability,  be  the  losing  of  hia 
life. 

He  was  no  Linger  undecided  about  doing  the  foul  deed. 
He  had  quite  determined  upon  it ;  and  the  attempt  now  be- 
ing made  by  his  confederate  to  steal  the  knif<  was  the  first 
towards  its  perpetration. 


288  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

The  theft  was  too  successfully  accomplished.  The  wretch^ 
on  getting  up  to  the  rum-cask,  was  seen  to  sit  down  silently 
by  its  side ;  and,  after  a  few  moments  passed  in  this  position 
he  again  rose  erect,  and  moved  back  towards  the  mast, 
Dark  as  was  the  night,  Le  Gros  could  perceive  something 
glittering  in  the  hand  of  his  accomplice,  which  he  knew 
must  be  the  coveted  weapon. 

It  was  so.  The  sleeper  had  been  surreptitiously  dis- 
armed. 

For  a  moment  the  two  men  might  have  been  seen  stand 
'sag  in  juxtaposition ;  and  while  thus  together  the  knife  was 
furtively  transferred  from  the  hand  of  the  accomplice  into 
that  of  the  true  assassin. 

Then  both,  assuming  a  careless  attitude,  for  a  while  re- 
mained near  the  mast,  apparently  engaged  in  some  ordinary 
conversation.  An  occasional  shifting  of  their  position,  how- 
ever, took  place,  —  though  so  slight  that,  even  under  a  good 
light,  it  would  scarce  have  been  observed.  A  series  of  these 
movements,  made  at  short  intervals,  ended  in  bringing  the 
conspirators  close  up  to  the  empty  hogshead ;  and  then  one 
of  them  sat  down  by  it.  The  other,  going  round  it,  after  a 
short  lapse  of  time,  imitated  the  example  of  his  companion 
by  seating  himself  on  the  opposite  side. 

Thus  far  there  was  nothing  in  the  behavior  of  the  two 
men  to  have  attracted  the  attention  of  their  associates  on 
the  raft,  —  even  had  the  latter  been  awake.  Even  so,  the 
obscurity  that  surrounded  their  movements  would  have 
hindered  them  from  being  very  clearly  comprehended. 

There  was  no  eye  watching  the  assassins,  as  they  sat  down 
by  the  side  of  their  sleeping  victim ;  none  fixed  upon  them 
as  both  simultaneously  leant  over  him  with  outstretched 
arms,  —  one  holding  what  appeared  a  piece  of  blanket  ov^r 
his  face,  as  if  to  stifle  his  breath,  —  the  other  striking  down 
upon  his  breast  with  a  glittering  blade,  as  if  stabbing  bin 
(0  the  heart. 


DOUSING  THE  GLIM.  289 

The  double  action  occupied  scarce  a  second  of  time.  In 
the  darkness,  no  one  appeared  to  perceive  it,  except  they 
were  its  perpetrators.  No  one  seemed  to  hear  that  choking, 
gurgling  cry  that  accompanied  it ;  or  if  they  did,  it  was  only 
to  shape  a  half  conjecture,  that  some  one  of  their  compan- 
ions was  indulging  in  a  troubled  dream  ! 

The  assassins,  horror-stricken  at  what  they  had  done, 
skulked  tremblingly  back  to  their  former  position  by  the 
mast. 

Their  victim,  stretched  on  his  back,  remained  motionless 
upon  the  spot  where  they  had  visited  him ;  and  any  one 
standing  over  him,  as  he  lay,  might  have  supposed  that  he 
was  still  slumbering ! 

Alas !  it  was  the  slumber  of  death ! 


W 


CHAPTER    LXXIX. 

DOUSING  THE   GLIM. 

E  left  the  crew  of  the  Catamaran  in  full  occupation, 
—  "  smokin    "  shark-flesh  on  the  back  of  a  cachalot 


To  make  sure  of  a  sufficient  stock,  —  enough  to  last  them 
with  light  rations  for  a  voyage,  if  need  be,  to  the  other  side 
of  the  Atlantic,  —  they  had  continued  at  the  work  all  day 
long,  and  several  hours  into  the  night.  They  had  kept  the 
fire  ablaze  by  pouring  fresh  spermaceti  into  the  furnace  of 
flesh  which  they  had  constructed,  or  rather  excavated,  in  the 
back  of  the  leviathan  ;  and  so  far  as  that  kind  of  fuel  was 
concerned,  they  might  have  gone  on  roasting  shark-steaks 
for  a  twelvemonth.  But  they  had  proved  that  the  sperm- 
oel  would  r  ot  burn  to  any  purpose  without  a  wick  ;  and  98 
W  i 


290  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

their  spare  ropes  were  too  precious  to  be  j.11  picked  into 
oakum,  they  saw  the  necessity  of  economizing  their  stock  of 
the  latter  article.  But  for  this  deficiency,  they  might  have 
permitted  the  furnace-lamp  to  burn  on  during  the  whole 
night,  or  until  it  should  go  out  by  the  exhaustion  of  the  wick. 

As  they  were  not  yet  quite  satisfied  with  the  supply  of 
broiled  shark-meat,  they  had  resolved  to  take  a  fresh  spoil  at 
roasting  on  the  morrow ;  and  in  order  that  the  wick  should 
not  be  idly  wasted,  they  had  "  doused  the  glim "  before  re- 
tiring to  rest. 

They  had  extinguished  the  flame  in  a  somewhat  original 
fashion,  —  by  pouring  upon  it  a  portion  of  the  liquid  sper- 
maceti taken  out  of  the  case.  The  light,  after  giving  a  final 
flash,  had  gone  out,  leaving  them  in  utter  darkness. 

Bat  they  had  no  difficulty  in  finding  their  way  back  to  the 
deck  of  their  craft,  where  they  designed  passing  the  remain- 
der of  the  night.  During  the  preceding  days  they  had  so 
often  made  the  passage  from  Catamaran  to  cachalot,  and 
vice  versa,  that  they  could  have  gone  either  up  or  down 
blindfolded ;  and  indeed  they  might  as  well  have  been  blind- 
folded on  this  their  last  transit  for  the  night,  so  dense  was 
the  darkness  that  had  descended  over  the  dead  whale. 

After  groping  their  way  over  the  slippery  shoulders  of  the 
leviathan,  and  letting  themselves  down  by  the  rope  they  had 
attached  to  his  huge  pectoral  fin,  they  made  their  supper 
upon  a  portion  of  the  hot  roast  they  had  brought  along  with 
them ;  and,  washing  it  down  with  a  little  diluted  "  canary,'' 
they  consigned  themselves  to  rest. 

Better  satisfied  with  their  prospects  than  they  had  been 
for  some  time  past,  they  soon  fell  asleep ;  and  silence  reigned 
around  the  dark  floating  mass  that  included  the  forms  of 
cachalot  and  Catamaran. 

At  that  same  moment  a  less  tranquil  scene  was  occurring 
scarce  ten  miles  from  the  spot ;  for  it  is  scarce  necessary  to 
gay  that  ths  light  seen  by  the  ruffians  on  the  great  raft, — 


DOUSING  THE  GLIM.  291 

Kud  which  they  had  fancifully  mistaken  for  a  ship's  galley- 
fire,  —  was  the  furnace  fed  by  spermaceti  on  the  back  of  the 
whale. 

The  extinction  of  the  flame  had  led  to  a  scene  which  was 
reaching  its  maximum  of  noisy  excitement  at  about  the  time 
that  the  crew  of  the  Catamaran  were  munching  their  roast 
shark-meat  and  sipping  their  canary.  This  scene  had  con- 
tinued long  after  every  individual  of  the  latter  had  sunk  into 
a  sweet  oblivion  of  the  dangers  that  surrounded  them. 

All  four  slept  soundly  throughout  the  remainder  of  the 
night.  Strange  to  say,  they  felt  a  sort  of  security,  moored 
alongside  that  monstrous  mass,  which  they  would  not  have 
experienced  had  their  frail  tiny  craft  been  by  itself  alone 
upon  the  ocean.  It  was  but  a  fancied  security,  it  is  true  : 
still  it  had  the  effect  of  giving  satisfaction  to  the  spirit,  and, 
through  this,  producing  an  artificial  incentive  to  sleep. 

It  was  daylight  before  any  of  them  awoke,  —  or  it  should 
Lave  been  daylight,  by  the  hour :  but  there  was  a  thick  fog 
around  them,  —  so  thick  and  dark  that  the  carcass  of  the 
cachalot  was  not  visible  from  the  deck  of  the  Catamaran,  — 
although  only  a  few  feet  of  water  lay  between  them. 

Ben  Brace  was  the  first  to  bestir  himself.  Snowball  had 
never  been  an  early  riser ;  and  if  permitted  by  his  duties,  or 
the  neglect  of  them  either,  he  would  have  kept  his  couch  till 
midday.  Ben,  however,  knew  that  there  was  work  to  be 
done,  and  no  time  to  be  wasted  in  idleness.  The  captain  of 
the  Catamaran  had  given  up  all  hopes  of  the  return  of  the 
whaler  ;  and  therefore  the  sooner  they  could  complete  their 
arrangements  for  cutting  adrift  from  the  carcass,  and  con- 
tinuing their  interrupted  course  towards  the  west,  the  better 
would  be  their  chance  of  ultimately  reaching  land. 

Snowball,  sans  ceremonie,  was  shaken  out  of  his  slumbers ; 
and  the  process  of  restoring  him  to  wakefulness  also  awoke 
little  William  and  Lilly  Lalee,  —  so  that  th'}  whole  ore* 
were  now  up  and  ready  for  action. 


292  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

A  hasty  dejeuner  a  la  matelot  served  for  the  morning 
repast ;  after  which  Snowball  and  the  sailor,  accompanied  by 
the  boy,  climbed  once  more  upon  the  back  of  the  cachalot^ 
to  resume  the  operations  which  had  been  suspended  for  the 
night ;  while  the  girl,  as  usual,  remained  in  charge  of  thi 
Catamaran. 


CHAPTER    LXXX. 

SUSPICIOUS   SOUNDS. 

ex-cook,  in  the  lead  of  those  who  ascended  to  the 
1  summit  of  the  carcass,  had  some  difficulty  in  finding  his 
kitchen ;  but,  after  groping  some  time  over  the  glutinous 
epidermis  of  the  animal,  he  at  length  laid  his  claws  upon  the 
edge  of  the  cavity. 

The  others  joined  him  just  as  he  had  succeeded  in  insert- 
ing a  bit  of  fresh  wick ;  and  soon  after  a  strong  flame  was 
established,  and  a  fresh  spitful  of  shark-steaks  hung  frizzling 
over  it. 

Nothing  more  could  be  done  than  wait  until  the  meat 
should  be  done.  There  was  no  "basting"  required,  —  only 
an  occasional  turning  of  the  steaks  and  a  slight  transposition 
of  them  on  the  harpoon  spit,  —  so  that  each  should  have  due 
exposure  to  the  flame. 

These  little  culinary  operations  needed  only  occasional 
attention  on  the  part  of  the  cook.  Snowball,  who  preferred 
the  sedentary  pose,  as  soon  as  he  saw  his  "  range "  in  fall 
operation,  squatted  down  beside  it.  His  companions  remained 
standing. 

Scarcely  five  minutes  had  passed,  when  the  negro  was 
seen  to  make  a  start  as  if  some  one  had  given  him  a  kick  in 
the  shin.  Simultaneously  with  that  start  the  exclamatic.E 
"  Golly  I "  escaped  frczn  his  lips. 


SUSPICIOUS  SOtfNDS.  298 

"  What  be  the  matter,  Snowy  ?  "  interrogated  Brace. 

"  Hush  !  Hab  ye  no  hear  nuffin'  ?  " 

"No,"  answered  the  sailor,  —  little  William  chiming  in 
irith  the  negative. 

"  I  hab  den,  —  I  hab  hear  someting." 

«  What  ?  * 

"  Dat  I  doan  know." 

"  It 's  the  frizzlin'  o'  those  shark -steaks ;  or,  maybe,  some 
»ea-bird  squeaking  up  in  the  air." 

"  No,  neyder  one  nor  todder.  Hush  !  Massa  Brace,  I  hab 
hear  some  soun'  'tirely  diffrent,  —  somethin'  like  de  voice  ob 
human  man.  You  obsarb  silence.  Maybe  we  hear  'im  agen." 

Snowball's  companions,  though  inclined  to  incredulity, 
obeyed  his  injunction.  They  might  have  treated  it  with  less 
regard,  had  they  not  known  the  Coromantee  to  be  gifted 
with  a  sense  of  hearing  that  was  wonderfully  acute.  His 
largely-developed  ears  would  have  proved  this  capacity  ; 
but  they  knew  that  he  possessed  it,  from  having  witnessed 
many  exhibitions  of  it  previous  to  that  time.  For  this 
reason  they  yielded  to  his  double  solicitation,  —  to  remain 
silent  and  listen. 

At  this  moment,  to  the  surprise  of  Ben  Brace  and  Wil- 
liam, and  not  a  little  to  the  astonishment  of  the  negro,  a  tiny 
voice  reached  (hem  from  below,  —  which  they  all  easily 
recognized  as  that  of  Lilly  Lalee. 

"0  Snowball,"  called  out  the  girl,  addressing  herself  to 
her  especial  protector,  "  I  hear  people  speaking.  It 's  out 
upon  the  water.  Do  you  not  hear  them  ?  " 

"  Hush !  Lilly  Lally,"  answered  the  negro,  speaking  down 
to  his  protege  in  a  sort  of  hoarse  whisper ;  "  hush,  Lilly, 
pet ;  doan  you  'peak  above  him  Lilly  breff.  Keep  'till,  dat 
a  good  gal." 

The  child,  restrained  by  this  string  of  cautionary  appeals, 
offered  no  further  remark ;  and  Snowball,  making  a  sign  for 
his  companions  to  continue  silent,  once  more  resumed  his 
listening  attitude. 


294  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

Ben  Brace  and  the  boy,  convinced  by  this  additional  test* 
mony  that  the  Coromantee  must  have  heard  something  more 
than  the  frizzling  of  the  shark-flesh,  without  saying  a  word, 
imitated  his  example,  and  eagerly  bent  their  ears  to  listen. 

They  had  not  long  to  wait  before  becoming  convinced 
that  Snowball  had  heard  something  besides  the  spirting  of 
the  shark-steaks.  They  heard  something  more  themselves. 
They  heard  sounds  that  could  not  be  mistaken  for  those  of 
the  sea.  They  were  the  voices  of  men  ! 

They  were  still  ajt  some  distance,  —  though,  perhaps,  not 
so  distant  as  they  seemed.  The  thick  fog,  which,  as  every 
one  knows,  has  the  effect  of  deadening  sound,  was  to  be 
taken  into  account ;  and,  making  allowance  for  this,  the 
voices  heard  might  not  be  such  a  great  way  off". 

Whatever  was  the  distance,  it  was  constantly  becoming 
less.  The  listeners  could  tell  this,  ere  they  had  stood  many 
minutes  listening.  Whoever  gave  utterance  to  those  sounds 
—  words  they  were  —  must  be  moving  onward,  —  coming 
towards  the  carcass  of  the  cachalot. 

How  were  they  coming?  They  could  not  be  walking 
upon  the  water  :  they  must  be  aboard  a  ship  ? 

This  interrogatory  occurred  to  those  who  stood  upon  the 
whale.  Could  they  have  answered  it  in  the  affirmative,  their 
own  voices  would  soon  have  been  uplifted  in  a  joyous  huzza ; 
while  the  hail  "  Ship  ahoy ! "  would  have  been  sent  through 
the  sombre  shadows  of  the  mist,  in  the  hope  of  its  receiving 
an  answer. 

Why  was  the  hail  not  heard  ?  Why  did  the  crew  of  thfl 
Catamaran  stand  listening  to  those  voices  without  making 
challenge,  and  with  looks  that  betokened  apprehension  rather 
than  relief? 

Six  words  that  escaped  from  the  lips  of  Ben  Brace  will 
explain  the  silence  of  himself  and  his  companions,  as  well  at 
the  dissatisfied  air  that  had  impressed  itself  upon  their  faced 
The  six  words  were  :  — 

u  Dftngnation  !  it  be  the  biff  raft." 


UNPLEASANT  CONJECTURES.  ?&> 

CHAPTER    LXXXI. 

UNPLEASANT    CONJECTURES. 

«  TT\  ANGNATION  !  it  be  the  big  raft." 

_•_  9  Such  was  the  singular  speech  that  fell  from  th« 
lips  of  the  sailor,  and  with  an  accent  that  proclaimed  it  omi- 
nous. 

And  why  ominous  ?  Why  should  the  presence  of  that 
embarkation  —  known  to  them  as  the  "big  raft"  —  cause 
apprehension  to  the  crew  of  the  Catamaran  ? 

So  far  as  Ben  Brace  and  little  William  were  concerned,  the 
question  has  been  already  answered.  It  may  be  remembered 
with  what  feelings  of  alarm  they  first  listened  to  the  voices 
of  Snowball  and  Lilly  Lalee,  —  heard  in  a  similar  manner 
during  the  darkness  of  the  night,  —  and  with  what  suspicious 
caution  they  had  made  their  approach  to  the  Coromantee 
in  the  middle  of  his  casks.  It  may  be  remembered  for  what 
reason  they  were  thus  suspicious,  for  it  was  then  given,  — • 
a  dread  on  the  part  of  William  —  and  a  great  one,  too  —  of 
being  devoured  by  that  cannibal  crew  ;  and  on  the  part  of 
his  generous  protector  a  fear  of  becoming  a  victim  to  their 
revenge. 

The  same  motive  for  their  fears  still  existed  ;  and  their 
apprehension  of  being  approached  by  the  raft  was  as  unabated 
as  ever. 

Snowball's  dread  of  the  Pandora's  people  might  not  have 
been  so  acute,  but  for  a  certain  circumstance  that  came  be- 
fore his  mind.  He  had  been  made  aware,  —  by  sundry  ill- 
usage  he  had  received  from  the  slaver's  captain  and  mate, 
just  previous  to  the  climax  of  the  catastrophe,  —  that  he  was 
himself  regarded  as  the  author  of  it.  He  knew  he  had  been ; 
and  he  supposed  that  the  thing  must  have  become  known  to 
the  rest  of  the  crew.  He  had  not  encountered  them  afto- 


296  THE   OCEAN  WAIFS. 

wards;  and  well  had  it  been  for  him,  —  fttf1  certainly  they 
would  have  wreaked  their  vengeance  upon  him  without  stint 
Snowball  had  sense  enough  to  be  aware  of  this  ;  and  there- 
fore his  aversion  to  any  further  intercourse  with  the  cast- 
aways of  the  lost  ship  was  quite  as  strong  as  that  of  either 
Ben  Brace  or  the  boy. 

As  for  Lilly  Lalee,  her  fears  were  due  to  a  less  definite 
cause,  and  only  arose  from  observing  the  apprehension  of  her 
companions. 

"  De  big  raff,"  said  Snowball,  mechanically  repeating 
the  sailor's  last  words.  "  You  b'lieve  im  be  dat,  Massa 
Brace?" 

"  Shiver  my  timbers  if  I  know  what  to  think,  Snowy ! 
If  it  be  that  —  " 

"  Ef  im  be  dat,  wha'  den?"  inquired  the  Coromantee, 
seeing  that  Brace  had  stopped  short  in  what  he  was  going 
to  say. 

"  Why,  only  that  we  're  in  an  ugly  mess.  There  's  no 
reason  to  think  they  have  picked  up  a  stock  o'  provisions, 
since  we  parted  wi'  them.  I  don't  know  how  they  've 
stuck  it  out,  —  that  is,  supposin'  it  be  them.  They  may 
have  got  shark-meat  like  ourselves ;  or  they  have  lived 
upon  —  " 

The  sailor  suddenly  suspended  his  speech,  glancing  to- 
wards William,  as  if  what  he  was  about  to  say  had  better 
not  reach  the  ears  of  the  lad. 

Snowball,  however,  understood  him,  —  as  was  testified  by 
a  significant  shake  of  the  head. 

"As  for  water,"  continued  the  sailor,  "they  had  some  left; 
but  not  enough  to  have  lasted  them  to  this  time.  They  had 
rum,  —  oceans  o'  that,  —  but  it  'ud  only  make  things  wor^e. 
True,  they  mout  a  caught  some  o'  the  rain  in  their  shirts  and 
tarpaulins,  as  we  did ;  but  they  were  n't  the  sort  to  be  care- 
ful o'  it  wi'  a  rum-ca^k  standin'  by ;  an'  I  dar  say,  by  tliia 
time,  though  they  may  have  some'at  to  eat,  -  —  as  /on  knows 


UNPLEASANT  CONJECTURES.  29? 

Snowy,  —  they  '11  be  dyin'  for  a  drop  o'  drink.  In  thai 
ease  —  " 

"  In  dat  case,  dey  rob  us  ob  de  whole  stock  we  hab  save 
Den  we  perish  fo'  sartiii.' 

"  Sure  o'  that,  at  least,"  continued  the  sailor.  "  But  they 
would  n't  stop  by  robbin'  us  o'  our  precious  water.  They  'd 
take  everything ;  an'  most  likely  our  lives  into  the  bargain. 
Let  us  hope  it  ain't  them  we  've  heard." 

"  Wha'  you  say,  Master  Brace  ?  'Pose  'um  be  de  capten 
an'  dem  odders  in  de  gig  ?  Wha'  you  tink  ?  " 

"It  mout,"  answered  the  sailor.  "I  war  n't  thinkin'  o' 
them.  It  mout  be ;  an'  if  so,  we  han't  so  much  to  fear  as 
from  t'  other  'uns.  They  arn't  so  hard  up,  I  should  say ;  or 
even  if  they  be,  there  arn't  so  many  o'  'em  to  bully  us. 
There  were  only  five  or  six  o'  them.  I  should  be  good  for 
any  three  o'  that  lot  myself;  an'  I  reckon  you  an'  Will'm 
here  could  stan'  a  tussle  wi'  the  others.  Ah !  I  wish  it  war 
them.  But 't  arn't  likely :  they  had  a  good  boat  an'  a  com- 
pass in  it ;  and  if  they  've  made  any  use  o'  their  oars,  they 
ought  to  be  far  from  here  long  afore  this.  You  've  got  the 
best  ears,  nigger :  keep  them  well  set,  an'  listen.  You  know 
the  voices  o'  the  ole  Pan's  crew.  See  if  you  can  make  'em 
out." 

During  the  above  dialogue,  which  had  been  carried  on  in 
an  undertone,  —  a  whisper,  in  fact,  —  the  mysterious  voices 
had  not  been  again  distinguished.  When  first  heard,  they 
appeared  to  proceed  from  two  or  more  men  engaged  in  con- 
versation ;  and,  as  we  have  said,  were  only  very  indistinct,  — • 
either  from  the  speakers  being  at  a  distanr  e  or  talking  in  a 
low  tone  of  voice. 

The  Catamarans  now  listened,  expecting  to  hear  some 
words  pronounced  in  a  louder  tone;  and  yet  not  wishing 
to  hear  them.  Rather  would  they  that  those  voices  should 
never  again  sound  in  their  ears. 

For  a  time  it  seemed  "as  if  they  were  going  to  have  thil 

13* 


298  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

wish  gratified.  Full  ten  minutes  elapsed,  and  no  sound 
reached  their  ears,  either  of  human  or  other  voice. 

This  silence  was  at  first  satisfactory;  but  all  at  once  a 
reflection  came  across  the  mind  of  Ben  Brace,  which  gave 
a  new  turn  to  his  thoughts  and  wishes. 

What  if  the  voices  heard  had  come  from  a  different  sort 
of  men?  Why  should  they  be  those  of  the  slaver's  cast- 
away crew,  —  either  the  ruffians  on  the  raft  or  the  captain's 
party  in  the  gig  ?  What,  after  all,  if  they  had  proceeded 
from  the  decks  of  the  whaler? 

The  old  whalesman  had  not  thought  of  this  before ;  and, 
now  that  he  did  think  of  it,  it  caused  such  a  commotion  in 
his  mind,  that  he  could  hardly  restrain  himself  from  crying 
out  "  Ship  ahoy  ! " 

He  was  hindered,  however,  by  a  quick  reflection  that 
counselled  him  to  caution.  In  case  of  its  not  being  the 
whaler's  men  that  had  been  heard  it  must  be  those  of  the 
slaver ;  and  the  hail  would  but  too  certainly  be  the  precursor 
to  his  own  destruction,  as  well  as  that  of  his  companions. 

In  a  whisper  he  communicated  his  thoughts  to  Snowball, 
who  became  equally  affected  by  them,  —  equally  inclined  to 
cry  "  Ship  ahoy ! "  and  ah'ke  conscious  of  the  danger  of 
doing  so. 

A  strife  of  thought  was  now  carried  on  in  the  bosom* 
of  both.  It  was  lamentable  to  reflect,  that  they  might  be 
close  to  a  ship,  —  within  hailing  distance  of  her,  —  which 
could  at  once  have  rescued  them  from  all  the  perils  that 
surrounded  them ;  and  that  this  ship  might  be  silently 
gliding  past,  shrouded  from  their  sight  under  that  thick 
fog,  —  in  another  hour  to  be  far  off"  upon  the  ocean,  never  to 
come  within  hailing  distance  again  ! 

A  single  word  —  a  shout — might  save  them;  and  yet 
ihey  dared  not  utter  it ;  for  the  same  shout  might  equally 
jetray,  and  lead  to  their  destruction. 

They  were  strongly  tempted  to  risk  the  ambiguous  signal 


UNPLEASANT  CONJECTURES.  299 

For  some  seconds  they  stood  wavering  between  silence  and 
u  Ship  ahoy ! "  but  caution  counselled  the  former,  and  pru 
dence  at  length  triumphed. 

This  course  was  not  adopted  accidental  p.  A  process  of 
reasoning  that  passed  through  the  mind  of  the  old  whales 
man,  —  founded  upon  his  former  professional  experiences,  — - 
conducted  him  to  it. 

If  it  be  the  whale-ship,  reasoned  he,  she  must  have  come 
back  in  search  of  the  cachalot.  Her  crew  must  have  known 
that  they  had  killed  it.  The  "  drogues "  and  flag  proved 
that  belief  on  their  part,  and  the  ex-whalesman  knew  thai 
it  would  be  well  worth  their  while  to  return  in  search  of  the 
whale.  It  was  this  very  knowledge  that  had  sustained  his 
hopes,  and  delayed  him  so  long  by  its  carcass.  A  whale, 
which  would  have  yielded  nearly  a  hundred  barrels  of  sper- 
maceti, was  a  prize  not  to  be  picked  up  every  day  in  the 
middle  of  the  ocean ;  and  he  knew  that  such  a  treasure 
would  not  be  abandoned  without  considerable  search  having 
first  been  made  to  recover  it. 

All  this  was  in  favor  of  the  probability  that  the  voices 
heard  had  proceeded  from  the  whale-ship ;  and  if  so,  it  was 
farther  probable  that  in  the  midst  of  that  fog,  while  bent 
upon  such  an  errand,  the  crew  would  not  care  to  make  way ; 
but,  on  the  contrary,  would  "  lay  to,"  and  wait  for  the  clear- 
ing of  the  atmosphere. 

In  that  case  the  Catamarans  might  still  expect  to  see  the 
welcome  ship  when  the  fog  should  rise  ;  and  with  this  hope 
tfiey  came  to  the  determination  to  keep  silence. 

The  hour  was  still  very  early,  —  the  sun  scarce  yet  above 
the  horizon.  When  that  luminary  should  appear,  his  power- 
ful rays  would  soon  dissipate  the  darkness ;  and  then,  if  not 
before,  would  they  ascertain  whether  those  vcices  had  pro 
ceeded  from  the  throats  of  monsters  or  of  met 


300  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

CHAPTER    LXXXI1. 

AN   INFORMAL   INQUEST. 

fllHEY  did  not  have  to  stay  for  the  scattering  of  the  fog 

I  Long  before  the  sun  had  lifted  that  veil  from  off  th€ 
face  of  the  sea,  the  crew  of  the  Catamaran  had  discovered 
the  character  of  their  neighbors.  They  were  not  friends, 
but  dire  enemies,  —  the  very  enemies  they  so  much  dreaded. 

The  discovery  was  not  delayed.  It  was  made  soon  after, 
and  in  the  following  manner :  — 

The  three  —  Snowball,  the  sailor,  and  little  William  — 
had  kept  their  place  on  the  carcass  of  the  cachalot,  all  three 
attentively  listening,  —  the  two  last  standing  up,  and  the 
former  in  a  reclining  attitude,  with  his  huge  ear  laid  close  to 
the  skin  of  the  whale,  —  as  though  he  believed  that  to  be  a 
conductor  of  sound.  There  was  no  need  for  them  to  have 
been  thus  straining  their  ears :  for  when  a  sound  reached 
them  at  length,  it  was  that  of  a  voice,  —  so  harsh  and  loud, 
that  a  deaf  man  might  almost  have  heard  it. 

"  Sacre  !  "  exclaimed  the  voice,  apparently  pronounced  in 
an  accent  of  surprise,  "  look  here,  comrades !  Here  's  a  dead 
man  among  us  ! " 

Had  it  been  the  demon  of  the  mist  that  gave  utterance  to 
these  speeches,  they  could  not  have  produced  a  more  fearful 
effect  upon  those  who  heard  them  from  the  back  of  the  cach- 
alot. The  accent,  along  with  that  profane  shibboleth,  might 
have  proceeded  from  any  one  who  spoke  the  language  of 
France ;  but  the  tone  of  the  voice  could  not  be  mistaken.  Il 
had  too  often  rung  in  their  ears  with  a  disagreeable  emphasis, 

"  Massa  Le  Grow,  dat  am,"  muttered  the  negro.  "  Any- 
body  tell  dat." 

Snowball's  companions  made  no  reply.  None  was  re 
quired.  Other  voices  rose  up  out  of  the  mist. 


AN  INFORMAL  INQUEST.  301 

*  A  dead  man ! "  shouted  a  second.  "  Sure  enough.  Who 
ait." 

"  It  'a  the  Irishman  ! "  proclaimed  a  third.  "  See  !  He  'a 
been  killed !  There 's  a  knife  sticking  between  his  rib* ! 
He  s  been  murdered  ! " 

"  That 's  his  own  knife,"  suggested  some  one.  "  I  know  it ; 
because  it  once  belonged  to  me.  If  you  look  you  '11  find  his 
name  on  the  haft.  He  graved  it  there  the  very  day  he 
bought  it  from  me." 

There  was  an  interval  of  silence,  as  if  they  had  paused  to 
confirm  the  suggestion  of  the  last  speaker. 

"  You  're  right,"  said  one,  resuming  the  informal  inquest. 
"  There  's  his  name,  sure  enough,  —  Larry  O1  Gorman." 

u  He 's  killed  himself ! "  suggested  a  voice  not  hitherto 
heard.  "  He 's  committed  suicide  ! " 

"I  don't  wonder  at  his  doing  so,"  said  another,  confirm- 
ingly.  "  He  expected  to  have  to  die  anyhow  ;  and  I  suppose 
ne  thought  the  sooner  it  was  off  his  mind  the  better  it  would 
be  for  him." 

"  How  's  that  ?  "  inquired  a  fresh  speaker,  who  appeared 
to  dissfHit  from  the  opinions  of  those  that  had  preceded  him. 
"Why  should  he  expect  to  die  any  more  than  the  rest 
of  us?" 

"  You  forget,  mate,  that  the  fight  was  not  finished  between 
him  and  Monsieui  Le  Gros  ?  " 

"  No,  I  don't  forget  it.     Well  ?  " 

"Well,  yourself!" 

"  It  don't  follow  he  was  to  be  the  next  to  die,  —  not  as  I 
can  see.  Look  at  this,  comrades  !  There  's  been  foul  play 
here !  The  Irishman 's  been  stabbed  with  his  own  knife. 
That 's  plain  enough  ;  but  it  is  not  so  sure  he  did  it  himself 
Why  should  he  ?  I  say  again,  there 's  been  foul  play  ?  " 

"  And  who  do  you  accuse  of  foul  play  ?  " 

u  I  don't  accuse  any  one.  Let  them  bring  the  charge,  as 
have  seen  something.  Somebody  must  know  how  this 


302  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

about  There's  been  a  murder.  Can  any  one  tell  wh« 
did  it?" 

There  was  a  pause  of  silence  of  more  than  a  minute  in 
duration.  No  one  made  answer.  If  any  one  knew  who 
was  the  murderer,  they  failed  to  proclaim  it. 

"  Look  here,  mates ! "  put  in  one,  whose  sharp  voice 
sounded  like  the  cry  of  a  hyena,  "  I  'm  hungry  as  a  starved 
shark.  Suppose  we  suspend  this  inquest,  till  we've  had 
breakfast.  After  that  we  can  settle  who 's  done  the  deed,  — 
—  if  there 's  been  any  one,  except  the  man  himself.  What 
say  ye  all?" 

The  horrid  proposal  was  not  replied  to  by  any  one.  The 
loud  shout  that  succeeded  it  sprang  from  a  different  cause  ; 
and  the  words  that  were  afterwards  uttered  had  no  reference 
to  the  topic  under  consideration. 

u  A  light !  a  light ! "  came  the  cry,  vociferated  by  several 
voices. 

"  It 's  the  light  we  saw  last  night.  It 's  the  galley-fire ! 
There 's  a  ship  within  a  hundred  yards  of  us ! " 

"Ship  ahoy!   ship  ahoy!" 

"Ship  ahoy!   what  ship's  that?" 

"  Why  the  devil  don't  you  answer  our  hail  ? " 

"  To  the  oars,  men !  to  the  oars.  Sacre-dieu  !  The  lub- 
bers must  be  asleep.  Ship  ahoy !  ship  ahoy ! " 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  signification  of  these  speech- 
es. The  sailor  and  Snowball  exchanged  glances  of  despair. 
Both  had  already  looked  behind  them.  There,  blazing 
fiercely  up,  was  the  fire  of  spermaceti,  with  the  shark-steaks 
browning  in  its  flame.  In  the  excitement  of  the  moment 
they  had  forgotten  all  about  it.  Its  light,  gleaming  through 
the  fog,  had  betrayed  their  presence  to  those  upon  the  raft ; 
and  the  order  issued  to  take  to  the  oars,  with  the  confused 
plashing  that  quickly  followed,  told  the  Catamarans  that  the 
big  raft  was  about  to  bear  down  upon  them  ! 


SLIPPING  THE  CABLE.  808 

CHAPTER    LXXXIII 

SLIPPING  THE   CABLE. 

«  ~1~"\ AR  coming  on!"   muttered  Snowball.     "Wha*  w« 

1  J  better  do,  Massa  Brace  ?  Ef  we  stay  hya  dey  de- 
troy  us  fo'  sartin." 

"  Stay  here ! "  exclaimed  the  sailor,  who  no  longer  spoke 
in  whispers,  since  such  would  no  longer  avail.  •'  Anything 
but  that.  Quick,  Snowy,  —  quick,  Will'm  !  Back  down  to 
the  deck  o'  our  craft.  Let 's  make  all  speed,  and  cast  off 
from  the  karkiss  o'  the  whale.  There  be  time  enough  yet ; 
and  then  it  '11  be,  who 's  got  the  heels.  Don't  be  so  bad 
skeeart,  Snowy.  The  ole  Catamaran  be  a  trim  craft.  I 
built  her  myself,  wi'  your  help,  nigger ;  an'  I  Ve  got  faith  in 
her  speed.  We  '11  outsail  'em  yet" 

"  Dat  we  will,  Massa  Brace,"  assented  Snowball,  as,  close 
following  the  sailor,  he  glided  down  the  rope  on  to  the 
deck  of  the  Catamaran,  where  little  William  had  already 
arrived. 

It  was  the  work  of  only  a  few  minutes  to  cut  the  tiny 
cable  by  which  the  little  embarkation  had  been  attached 
to  the  fin  of  the  cachalot,  and  push  the  craft  clear  of  its 
moorings. 

But,  short  as  was  the  time,  during  its  continuance  the 
sun  had  produced  a  wonderful  change  in  that  oceanic 
panorama. 

The  floating  fog,  absorbed  by  his  fervid  rays,  had  almost 
disappeared  from  the  deep,  or  at  all  events  had  become  so 
dissipated  that  the  different  objects  composing  that  strange 
tableau  in  the  proximity  of  the  dead  cachalot  could  all  be 
§een  by  a  single  coup  d'osil;  and  were  also  in  sight  of  one 
another. 

There  was  the  huge  carcass  itself,  looming  like  a  gre«5 


304  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

black  rock  above  the  surface  of  the  sea.  Just  parting  fron 
its  side  was  the  little  Catamaran,  with  its  sail  set,  and  ita 
crew,  —  consisting  of  two  men  and  a  boy,  —  the  little  Portu- 
guese girl  appearing  as  a  passenger,  —  the  two  men  ener- 
getically bending  to  the  oars  while  the  boy  held  hold  of  the 
rudder. 

Scarce  a  hundred  yards  astern  was  the  larger  embarka- 
tion, —  supporting  its  score  of  dark  forms,  —  some  seated, 
and  straining  at  the  oars, — some  steering, —  others  attending 
to  the  sail ;  and  one  or  two  standing  by  the  head,  shouting 
directions  to  the  rest,  —  all  apparently  in  wonder  at  the 
tableau  thus  suddenly  disclosed,  and  uncertain  what  to  make 
of  it,  or  what  course  to  pursue ! 

The  occupants  of  the  great  raft  were  infinitely  more  aston- 
ished than  those  of  the  Catamaran.  On  the  part  of  the 
latter  there  was  no  longer  any  astonishment.  On  recognizing 
the  voices  taking  part  in  that  ceremonious  inquest  they  had 
comprehended  all.  The  surprise  they  had  at  first  felt  wag 
now  changed  into  terror. 

The  men  on  the  raft  were  still  under  the  influence  of 
astonishment;  and  no  wonder.  The  apparition  that  had  so 
suddenly  loomed  up  before  their  eyes,  —  at  first  obscurely 
seen  through  the  fog,  but  gradually  becoming  more  distinct, 
—  was  enough  to  cause  any  amount  of  surprise.  Such  a 
grouping  of  strange  objects  in  such  a  situation !  The  huge 
carcass  of  a  whale,  —  a  fire  upon  its  back,  with  bright  flamea 
blazing  upward,  —  a  crane  over  the  fire  with  the  curious 
flitches  suspended  from  it,  —  a  raft,  in  some  respects  resem- 
bling their  own,  supported  by  empty  casks,  and  carrying  a 
«ail,  with  four  human  beings  seen  upon  its  deck,  —  all  these 
formed  a  series  of  phenomena,  or  facts,  that  was  enough  to 
have  excited  the  surprise  of  the  most  indifferent  observers. 
Some  of  the  men  were  even  speechless  with  wonder,  and  s« 
continued  for  a  time,  while  others  gave  vent  to  their  as  ton 
Uhment  in  loud  shouts  and  excifed  gesticulations. 


SLIPPING  THE  CABLE.  305 

That  first  order  issued  by  Le  Gros  —  for  it  was  his  voice 
that  had  been  heard  giving  it  —  had  no  other  object  than  to 
cause  a  rapid  movement  towards  the  dark  mass,  or  rather 
the  beacon  seen  blazing  upon  its  summit.  The  order  had 
been  instantly  obeyed ;  for  there  was  an  instinctive  appre- 
hension on  the  part  of  all  that,  as  before,  the  light  might 
again  vanish  from  their  view. 

As  they  drew  nearer,  however,  and  the  fog  continued  to 
disperse,  they  obtained  a  fairer  view.  Their  surprise  was 
not  much  diminished,  though  their  comprehension  of  the 
objects  before  them  became  rapidly  clearer. 

The  retreat  of  the  Catamarans  —  for  the  movements  of 
the  latter  proclaimed  this  design  —  was  of  itself  suggestive ; 
and,  perhaps,  more  than  aught  else,  enabled  those  from 
whom  they  were  retreating  to  comprehend  the  situation. 

At  first  they  could  not  even  conjecture  who  they  were 
that  occupied  the  little  raft.  They  saw  four  human  beings 
upon  it ;  but  the  mist  was  still  ..hick  enough  to  hinder  them 
from  having  a  clear  view  of  either  their  forms,  faces,  or 
features.  Through  the  filmy  atmosphere  to  recognize  them 
was  impossible.  Had  there  been  but  two,  and  had  the  em- 
barkation that  carried  them  been  a  mere  platform  of  planks, 
they  might  have  shaped  a  conjecture.  They  remembered 
that  upon  such  a  structure  Ben  Brace  and  the  boy  had  given 
them  the  slip ;  and  it  might  be  them.  But  who  were  the 
two  others  ?  And  whence  came  the  six  water-casks,  the 
sail,  and  other  paraphernalia  seen  upon  the  escaping 
•craft? 

They  did  not  stay  to  waste  time  in  conjectures.  It  was 
enough  for  them  to  perceive  that  the  four  individuals  thus 
seen  were  trying  to  get  out  of  their  reach.  This  was  prima 
facie  proof  that  they  had  something  worth  carrying  along 
with  thsm ;  perhaps  water ! 

Some  one  made  use  of  the  word.  It  was  like  proclaiming 
*  reprieve  to  a  wretch 'upon  the  scaffold  about  to  be  launcbvi 


806  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

Into  eternity.  It  caused  such  excitement  in  the  minds  of  th» 
motley  crew  —  all  of  them  suffering  from  extreme  thirst  — 
that,  without  further  hesitancy,  they  bent  eagerly  to  their 
oars,  —  putting  forth  the  utmost  effort  of  their  strength  in 
chase  of  the  Catamaran. 


CHAPTER    LXXXIV. 

THE    CHASE. 

HALF  pulling,  half  trusting  to  the  sail,  in  a  few  seconds 
they  were  alongside  the  carcass  of  the  cachalot. 
They  saw  what  it  was  and  divined  how  it  came  to  be 
there ;  though  still  puzzled  b^  the  pyrotechnic  display  ex- 
hibited on  its  summit. 

As  they  passed  under  the  shadow  of  the  huge  mass  some 
proposed  that  they  should  stay  by  it,  —  alleging  that  it 
would  furnish  food  for  all ;  but  this  proposal  was  rejected  by 
the  majority. 

"  ParUeu !  "  exclaimed  the  directing  voice  of  Le  Gros ; 
1  we  have  food  a  plenty.  It 's  drink  we  want  now.  There  's 
no  water  upon  the  whale ;  arid  there  must  be  some  in  pos- 
session of  these  runaways,  whoever  they  be.  Let  us  first 
follow  them!  If  we  overhaul  them,  we  can  come  back. 
If  not,  we  can  return  all  the  same !  "  • 

This  proposal  appeared  too  reasonable  to  be  rejected.  A 
muttered  assent  of  the  majority  decided  its  acceptance  ;  and 
the  raft,  yielding  to  the  renewed  impulse  of  the  rcwera, 
swept  past  the  carcass,  —  leaving  both  the  black  mass  and 
the  blazing  beacon  ast  jrn. 

As  if  further  to  justify  the  course  of  action  he  had  coon* 
selled,  Le  Gros  continued, — 


THE  CHASE.  807 

•*  No  fear  about  our  finding  the  dead  fisL  This  fog  is 
clearing  away.  In  half  an  hour  there  won't  be  a  trace  of  it. 
We  shall  be  able  to  make  out  the  carcass  jf  the  whale 
twenty  milea  off,  —  especially  with  the  smoke  of  that  infer- 
nal fire  to  guide  us.  Pull  like  the  devil !  Be  sure  of  it, 
there 's  water  in  one  of  those  casks  we  see.  Only  think  of 
^— water!" 

It  scarce  needed  the  repetition  of  this  magic  word  tc 
stimulate  his  thirsty  companions.  They  were  already  pull- 
ing with  all  their  strength. 

For  about  ten  minutes  the  chase  continued,  —  both  the 
pursued  and  the  pursuer  equally  enveloped  in  vapor.  They 
were  less  than  two  hundred  yards  apart,  and  virtually  within 
view,  —  though  not  so  near  as  to  distinguish  one  another's 
features.  Each  crew  could  make  out  the  forms  of  the  other ; 
but  only  to  tell  that  they  were  human  beings  clad  in  some 
sort  of  costume. 

In  this  respect  the  Catamarans  had  the  advantage.  They 
knew  who  were  their  pursuers ;  and  all  about  them. 

The  latter  were  still  In  a  state  of  ignorance  as  to  who 
were  the  four  individuals  so  zealously  endeavoring  to  avoid 
an  interview  with  them.  They  could  perceive  that  only  two 
of  them  were  full-grown  men,  and  that  the  other  two  were 
of  smaller  size ;  but  this  gave  them  no  clew  for  the  identifi- 
cation of  the  fugitives. 

Of  course  it  did  not  occur  to  any  of  them  to  think  over 
the  rest  of  the  Pandora's  people ;  and  even  if  it  had,  there 
was  no  one  who  would  have  for  a  moment  supposed  that 
either  the  black  cook,  Snowball,  or  the  little  Portuguese 
pickaninny,  —  rarely  seen  upon  the  shiver's  deck,  —  could 
be  among  the  survivors. 

Such  a  conjecture  never  occurred  to  any  of  the  ruffians 
npon  the  great  raft;  and  therefore  they  we?e  continuing  the 
chase  still  ignorant  of  the  identity  of  those  who  seemed  s» 
desirous  of  escaping  theui. 


808  THE  OCEAN   WAIFS. 

It  was  only  after  the  fog  had  floated  entirely  away,  —  or 
grown  so  thin  as  to  appear  but  transparent  film,  —  that  the 
pursuers  identified  those  they  were  pursuing. 

Then  did  their  doubts  cease  and  their  conjectures  come 
to  a  termination. 

Of  the  four  forms  distinguishable  upon  the  deck  of  the 
escaping  craft,  there  was  one  that  could  not  be  mistaken. 
That  huge,  rounded  bust  covered  with  its  sable  epidermis,— 
for  the  negro  had  stripped  to  his  work,  —  surmounted  by  a 
spherical  occiput,  —  could  belong  to  no  living  creature  but 
the  ex-cook  of  the  Pandora.  It  was  Snowball  to  a  cer- 
tainty ! 

A  general  shout  proclaimed  the  recognition ;  and  for  some 
moments  the  air  was  rent  with  the  voices  of  his  ci-devant 
comrades  calling  upon  the  Coromantee  to  "  come  to  an 
anchor." 

"  Lie  to,  Snowball ! "  cried  several  of  his  old  comrades. 
"  Why  have  you  cut  "your  cable  in  that  fashion  ?  Hold  on 
till  we  come  up.  We  mean  you  no  harm ! " 

Snowball  did  hold  on ;  though  not  in  the  sense  that  his 
former  associates  desired.  On  the  contrary,  their  request 
only  stimulated  him  to  fresh  exertions,  to  avoid  the  renewal 
i>f  an  acquaintance  which  he  knew  would  certainly  end  in 
flis  ruin. 

The  Coromantee  was  not  to  be  cajoled.  With  Ben  Brace 
by  his  side,  muttering  wholesome  counsel,  he  lent  a  deaf  ear 
to  the  proposal  of  the  pursuers;  and  only  answered  it  by 
pulling  more  energetically  at  his  oar. 

What  had  been  only  a  request,  now  became  a  demand,  — 
accompanied  by  threats  and  protestation^.  Snowball  wan 
menaced  with  the  most  dire  vengeance ;  and  told  of  terrible 
punishments  that  awaited  him  on  his  capture. 

Their  threats  had  no  more  influence  than  their  solicita- 
tions ;  and  they  who  had  given  utterance  to  them  arriving 
•fter  a  time,  at  this  conviction,  ceased  talking  altogether. 


NEARER  AND  NEARER.  80§ 

Snowball's  silent,  though  evidently  determined,  rejection 
yf  their  demands  had  the  effect  of  irritating  those  who  had 
made  them ;  and  stimulated  by  their  spite  with  more  energy 
than  ever  did  they  bend  themselves  to  the  task  of  overtak- 
ing the  fugitive  craft. 

Two  hundred  yards  still  lay  between  pursuer  and  pursued. 
Two  hundred  yards  of  clear,  unobstructed  ocean.  Was 
that  distance  to  become  diminished,  to  the  capture  of  the 
Catamaran  ;  or  was  it  to  be  increased,  to  her  escape  ? 


CHAPTER   LXXXV. 

NEARER  AND  NEARER. 

WERE  the  Catamarans  to  escape  or  be  captured? 
Though  not  propounded  as  above,  this  was  the  ques- 
tion that  occupied  the  minds  of  both  crews,  —  the  pursued 
and  the  pursuing. 

Both  were  doing  their  very  utmost,  —  the  former  to  make 
their  escape,  the  latter  to  prevent  it ;  and  very  different  were 
the  motives  by  which  the  two  parties  were  actuated.  The 
occupants  of  the  lesser  raft  believed  themselves  to  be  row- 
ing and  sailing  for  their  lives  ;  and  they  were  not  far  astray 
in  this  belief;  while  those  upon  the  larger  embarkation  were 
pulling  after  them  with  the  most  hostile  intentions,  —  to  rob 
them  of  everything  they  had  got,  —  even  their  lives  in- 
cluded. 

So  went  they  over  the  wide  ocean  :  the  pursued  exerting 
themselves  under  the  influence  of  fear ;  the  pursuer,  under 
that  of  a  ferocious  instinct. 

In  sailing  qualities  the  Catamaran  was  decidedly  snperioi 
to  the  larger  raft ;  and  had  the  wind  been  cnly  a  little  fresb 


31(1  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

er  she  would  soon  have  increased  the  distance  between  hei 
iclf  and  her  pursuer. 

Unfortunately  it  was  a  very  gentle  breeze  that  was  blowing 
at  the  time ;  and  therefore  it  was  a  contest  of  speed  that 
would  most  likely  have  to  be  decided  by  the  oars.  In  this 
respect  the  Catamaran  labored  under  a  great  disadvantage,  — 
ehe  could  only  command  a  single  pair  of  oars  ;  while,  taking 
into  account  the  various  implements  —  capstan-bars  and  hand- 
spikes —  possessed  by  her  competitor,  nearly  a  dozen  oars 
might  be  reckoned  upon.  In  fact,  when  her  crew  had  got 
fairly  settled  down  to  the  chase,  quite  this  number  of  men 
could  be  seen  acting  as  rowers. 

Though  their  strokes  were  by  no  means  either  regular  or 
efficient,  still  did  they  produce  a  rate  of  speed  greater  than 
that  of  the  Catamaran;  and  the  crew  of  the  latter  saw, 
to  their  dismay,  that  their  pursuers  were  gaining  upon 
them. 

Not  very  rapidly,  but  sufficiently  so  to  be  perceived,  and 
to  inspire  them  with  the  dread  belief,  that  in  course  of  time 
they  would  be  overtaken. 

Under  this  belief,  men  of  a  despairing  turn  of  mind  would 
have  ceased  to  exert  themselves,  and  yielded  to  a  fate  that 
appeared  almost  certain  to  ensue. 

But  neither  the  English  sailor  nor  the  Coromantee  sea- 
cook,  were  individuals  of  the  yielding  kind.  They  were 
both  made  of  sterner  stuff,  —  and  even  when  the  chase  was 
undoubtedly  going  against  them,  they  were  heard  muttering 
to  each  other  words  of  encouragement,  and  a  mutual  deter- 
mination never  to  lay  down  their  oars,  so  long  as  six  feet 
of  water  separated  them  from  their  unpitying  pursuers. 

"  No,"  ejaculated  the  sailor,  "  it  'ud  be  no  use.  They  'd 
show  us  no  more  marcy  than  so  many  sharks.  I  know  it 
by  their  ways.  Don't  lose  a  stroke,  Snowy.  We  may  tire 
em  out  yet." 

"  Nebba  fear  fo'  me,  Massa  Biace  I "  replied  the  Coro- 


NEARER  AND  NEARER.  31] 

mantee.  "  A  keep  pulliii'  so  long 's  de  be  a  poun'  o*  trength 
in  ma  arms,  or  a  bit  o'  breff  in  ma  body.  Nebba  fear ! " 

It  might  appear  as  though  the  crew  of  the  Catamaran 
were  now  contending  against  fate,  and  without  hope.  This, 
however,  was  not  the  case;  for  there  was  still  something 
like  a  hope  to  cheer  them  on,  and  nerve  them  to  continue 
their  exertions.  What  was  it? 

The  answer  to  this  interrogatory  would  have  been  found 
by  any  one  who  could  have  looked  upon  the  sea,  —  at  some 
distance  astern  of  the  chase. 

There  might  have  been  observed  an  appearance  u^n  the 
water,  which  betokened  it  different  from  that  through  which 
they  were  making  their  way. 

It  resembled  a  dark,  shadowy  line,  extending  athwart  the 
horizon.  It  might  not  have  attracted  the  notice  of  an  ordi- 
nary observer,  but  to  the  eye  of  Ben  Brace,  —  as  he  sat 
by  his  oar  facing  it,  —  that  dark  line  had  a  peculiar  signifi- 
cation. 

He  knew  that  it  denoted  rougher  water,  and  a  stiffer 
breeze  than  that  blowing  upon  them  ;  and  from  this,  as  well 
as  the  clouds  fast  gathering  astern,  he  knew  there  was  a 
wind  coming  from  that  quarter. 

He  had  imparted  his  observation  to  Snowball,  and  it  was 
this  that  continued  to  inspire  them  with  a  hope  of  ultimate 
escape.  Both  believed  that,  with  a  strong  wind  in  their 
favor,  they  would  have  the  advantage  of  the  pursuer  ;  and  so, 
while  still  bending  all  their  energies  to  the  propulsion  of  the 
Catamaran,  they  kept  their  eyes  almost  continually  fixed 
upon  the  sea  astern,  —  even  with  a  more  anxious  glance 
than  that  with  which  they  regarded  their  pursuers. 

"If  we  can  keep  out  o'  their  way,"  muttered  he  to  his 
fellow  oarsman,  "  only  twenty  minutes  longer !  By  that 
time  yonder  breeze  '11  be  down  on  us ;  and  then  we  '11  ha' 
some  chance.  There  be  no  doubt  but  they  're  gainin'  on  ui 
now.  But  the  breeze  be,  a  gainin'  on  them,  —  equally,  if 


512  THE   OCEAN   WA1F& 

not  faster.  O  if  we  only  had  a  puff  o'  yonder  wind!  It  b« 
bio  win'  fresh  and  strong.  I  can  see  it  curlin'  op  the  water 
not  thrae  knots  astarn  o'  the  big  raft.  Pull  for  your  life, 
Snowy  Shiver  my  timbers !  they  be  a  gainin'  on  us  faster 
than  erer ! " 

There  was  a  despairing  tone  in  these  last  words,  that  told 
how  fearful  appeared  their  situation  to  the  captain  of  the 
Catamaran  ;  and  the  sign  of  assent  made  by  Snowball  in 
reply,  —  an  ominous  shake  of  the  head,  —  showed  that  the 
ex-cook  shared  the  apprehensions  of  his  comrade. 


CHAPTER    LXXXVI. 

CUT   IN   TWAIN. 

FOR  some  seconds  the  sailor  and  Snowball  remained  si 
lent,  —  both  too  busy  with  their  oars,  as  well  as  their 
eyes,  to  find  time  for  speech. 

Their  pursuers  were  noisy  enough.  They  had  kept  quiet, 
so  long  as  there  appeared  to  be  any  uncertainty  about  the  re- 
sults of  the  chase ;  but  as  soon  as  they  became  assured  that 
their  clumsy  craft  was  going  faster  than  that  of  which  they 
were  in  pursuit,  —  and  they  no  longer  felt  doubt  about  over- 
taking the  latter,  —  their  fiendish  voices  once  more  filled  the 
air ;  and  commands  for  the  Catamarans  to  come  to,  —  with 
threats  of  revenge  in  case  of  non-compliance,  —  were  hurled 
after  the  fugitives. 

One  man  was  conspicuous  among  the  rest  both  for  the 
position  which  he  held  upon  the  raft  and  the  menacing 
words  and  gestures  of  which  he  made  use.  Tin's  man  was 
Le  Gros. 

Standing  prominently  forward,  near  the  head  of  the  em- 


CUT  IN  TWAIN.  318 

barkation,  with  a  long  boat-hook  in  his  hand,  he  appeared  t* 
direct  the  movements  of  the  others,  —  urging  them  in  e^ery 
way  to  their  utmost  exertions.  He  was  heard  telling  then 
that  he  saw  both  food  and  water  in  possession  of  the  fugi- 
tives, —  a  cask  of  the  latter,  as  he  stated,  being  lashed  *a 
the  Catamaran  ' 

It  need  scarce  be  said  that  the  statement.  • —  whether  true 
or  fallacious,  —  acted  as  a  stimulus  to  his  comrades  at  the 
oar.  The  word  "  water  "  was  music  to  their  ears  ;  and,  on 
hearing  it  pronounced,  one  and  all  of  them  put  forth  their 
utmost  strength. 

The  increased  speed  thus  obtained  for  the  larger  craft  war 
likely  to  bring  about  the  crisis.  She  was  now  seen  to  gain 
upon  the  lesser  more  rapidly  than  ever  ;  and,  before  another 
ten  minutes  had  elapsed,  she  had  forged  so  close  to  the  stern 
timbers  of  the  Catamaran  that  an  active  man  might  almost 
have  leaped  from  one  to  the  other. 

The  crew  of  the  latter  beheld  the  proximity  with  despair. 
They  saw  the  black  waves,  with  white  curling  crests,  com- 
ing on  behind.  They  saw  the  sky  becoming  overcast  above 
their  heads  ;  but  it  appeared  only  to  scowl  upon  them,  —  as 
i£  to  make  darker  the  dread  doom  that  was  now  threatening 
60  near. 

"  Shiver  my  timbers  ! "  cried  the  sailor,  alluding  to  that 
too  tardy  wind,  "  it  will  be  too  late  to  save  us  ! " 

"  Too  late  !  "  echoed  the  voice  of  Le  Gros  from  the  big 
raft,  his  white  teeth,  as  they  shone  through  his  black  beard, 
imparting  to  him  a  ferocity  of  aspect  that  was  hideous  to 
behold.  "  Too  late,  you  say,  Monsieur  Brace.  For  what, 
may  I  ask  ?  Not  too  late  for  us  to  get  a  drink  out  of  your 
water-cask.  Ha  !  ha !  ha  !  " 

"  You  son  of  a  sea-cook  ! "  he  continued,  addressing  him- 
self to  the  negro  ;  "  why  don't  you  hold  your  oars  ?  Sacn 
Dieu !  what 's  the  use,  you  ugly  nigger  ?  Don't  yon 
«e  we  '11  board  you  Ja  six  seconds  more  ?  Drop  your 

14 


ft  14  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

cars,  I  say,  and  save  time.  If  you  don't,  we  '11  skin  you  alive, 
when  we  've  got  our  flippers  upon  you." 

"  Nebba,  Massa  Grow  ! "  defiantly  retorted  Snowball ; 
"  you  nebba  *kin  dis  nigga  'live.  He  go  die  'fore  you  do  dat 
He  got  him  knife  yet.  By  golly  !  me  kill  more  than  one  ob 
you  'fore  gib  in.  So  hab  a  care,  Massa  Grow  !  You  lay 
hand  on  ole  Snowy,  you  cotch  de  tarnel  goss." 

To  this  threat  of  resistance  the  Frenchman  did  not  vouch- 
safe reply  :  for  the  rafts  were  now  so  near  to  each  other 
that  his  attention  became  engrossed  by  something  that  left 
no  time  for  further  speech. 

He  saw  that  the  Catamaran  was  within  reach  of  his 
boat-hook,  and,  leaning  forwards  with  the  long  shaft  ex- 
tended, he  struck  its  grappling-iron  into  her  stern  timber. 

For  a  second  or  two  there  was  a  struggle,  which  would 
have  ended  in  the  two  rafts  being  brought  in  contact  with 
one  another,  but  for  an  adroit  stroke  given  by  the  oar  of  the 
English  sailor.  This  not  only  detached  the  boat-hook  from 
its  grip,  but  also  from  the  grasp  of  Le  Gros,  and  sent  the 
implement  shivering  through  the  air. 

At  the  same  instant  of  time  the  Frenchman,  losing  hia 
balance,  was  seen  to  stagger,  and  then  sink  suddenly  down- 
wards ;  not  into  a  prostrate  position,  but  perpendicularly,  — 
as  if  his  legs  had  penetrated  between  the  timbers  of  the 
raft. 

This  was  exactly  what  had  occurred :  for  as  soon  as  the 
spectators  in  both  crafts  could  recover  from  their  surprise, 
they  saw  only  so  much  of  Monsieur  Le  Gros  as  lay  between 
his  armpits  and  the  crown  of  his  head,  —  his  limbs  and  the 
lower  half  of  his  body  being  concealed  between  the  planks 
that  prevented  him  from  sinking  wholly  into  the  water. 

Perhaps  it  would  have  been  better  for  him  had  he  made 
a  complete  plunge  of  it.  At  all  events,  a  bold  "header" 
could  not  have  had  for  him  a  more  unfortunate  ending. 

Scar  26  had  he  sunk  between  the  timbei-s  when  a 


AN  UNLOOKED-FOR  DELIVERANCE  315 

shriek  came  forth  from  his  throat,  —  accompanied  by  a  pallor 
of  countenance,  and  a  contortion  of  his  features,  that  pr> 
claimed  something  more  than  a  mere  "  start "  received  by 
suddenly  sinking  waist-deep  into  the  sea. 

One  of  his  comrades,  —  the  confederate  ruffian  already 
spoken  of,  —  rushed  forward  to  raise  him  out  of  the  trap,  — 
from  which  he  was  evidently  unable  to  extricate  himself. 

The  man  caught  hold  of  him  by  the  arms,  and  was  drag- 
ging him  up  ;  when,  all  at  once,  he  was  seen  to  let  go,  and 
start  back  with  a  cry  of  horror  ! 

This  singular  conduct  was  explained  on  looking  at  the 
object  from  which  he  had  made  such  a  precipitate  retreat, 
It  was  no  longer  Le  Gros,  nor  even  Le  Gros's  body ;  but 
only  the  upper  half  of  it,  cut  off  by  the  abdomen,  as  clean 
as  if  it  had  been  severed  by  a  pair  of  gigantic  shears  ! 

u  A  shark  ! "  cried  a  voice,  which  only  gave  utterance  to 
the  thought  that  sprung  up  simultaneously  in  the  minds  of 
all,  —  both  the  occupants  of  the  big  raft,  and  the  crew  of  the 
Catamaran. 

Thus  deplorably  terminated  the  life  of  a  sinful  man ;  who 
certainly  meiited  punishment,  and,  perhaps  deseived  no 
better  fate. 


CHAPTER    LXXXVII. 

AN    UNLOOKED-FOR    DELIVERANCE. 

A  SPECTACLE  so  unexpected,  —  but,  above  all,  ot 
such  a  horrid  nature,  —  could  not  fail  to  produce  a 
powerful  impression  upon  those  who  were  witnesses  to  it. 
It  even  caused  a  change  of  proceedings  on  the  part  of  the 
ptusuers,  —  almost  a  suspension  of  the  pursuit,  —  and  on 
that  of  the  pursued  some  relaxation  in  their  efforts  to  escap*s 


816  THL   OCEAN  WAIFS. 

Both  parties  appeared  for  some  seconds  as  if  spell-bound,  and 
the  oars  on  both  rafts  were  for  a  while  held  "  apeak." 

This  pause  in  the  action  was  in  favor  of  the  Catamaran, 
whose  sailing  qualities  were  superior  to  those  of  her  pursuer. 
Her  crew,  moreover,  less  caring  for  what  had  happened  to 
Monsieur  Le  Gros,  were  the  first  to  recover  from  their  sur- 
prise ;  and  before  the  comrades  of  the  half-eaten  Frenchman 
thought  of  continuing  the  chase,  they  had  forced  ahead  sev- 
eral lengths  of  their  craft  from  the  dangerous  contiguity  so 
near  being  established  between  them. 

The  ruffian  crew  —  now  castaways  —  of  the  Pandora  had 
been  awed  by  the  strange  incident,  —  so  much  so  as  to 
believe,  for  a  time,  that  something  more  than  chance  had 
interfered  to  bring  it  about.  They  were  not  all  friends  of 
the  unfortunate  man,  who  had  succumbed  to  such  a  singular 
fate.  The  inquest  that  had  been  interrupted  was  still  fresh 
in  their  minds,  and  many  of  them  believed  that  the  inquiry 
—  had  it  proceeded  to  a  just  termination  —  would  have  re- 
sulted in  proving  the  guilt  of  Le  Gros,  and  piojlaiming  him 
the  murderer  of  0' Gorman. 

Under  this  belief,  there  were  many  aboard  the  big  raft 
that  would  not  have  cared  to  continue  the  chase  any  further, 
had  it  merely  .been  to  avenge  the  death  of  their  late  leader. 
With  them,  as  with  the  others,  there  was  a  different  motive 
for  doing  so,  —  a  far  more  powerful  incentive,  —  and  that  was 
the  thirst  which  tortured  all,  and  the  belief  that  the  escaping 
craft  carried  the  means  to  relieve  it. 

The  moiety  of  their  mutilated  chief,  lying  along  the  planka 
of  the  raft,  engaged  their  thoughts  only  for  a  very  short 
wiille ;  and  was  altogether  forgotten,  when  the  cry  of 
"  Water ! "  once  more  rising  in  their  midst,  urged  them 
to  resume  the  pursuit. 

Once  more  did  the.y  betake  themselves  to  their  oars,  — 
once  more  did  they  exert  their  utmost  strength,  —  but  witL 
fer  less  effect  than  before.  They  were  sti^  stimulated  by 


AN  UNLOOKED-FOR  DELIVERANCE.  317 

the  torture  of  thirst;  but  they  no  longer  acted  with  that 
unanimity  which  secures  success.  The  head  that  had 
hitherto  guided  them  with  those  imperious  eyes  —  now 
glaring  ghastly  fr  >m  the  extremity  of  the  severed  trunk  — 
was  no  longer  of  authority  among  them ;  and  they  acted 
in  that  undecided  and  irregular  manner  tJway&  certain  to 
result  in  defeat. 

Perhaps,  had  things  continued  as  they  were,  they  might 
have  made  up  for  the  lost  opportunity ;  and,  in  time,  have 
overtaken  the  fugitives  on  the  Catamaran ;  but  during  that 
excited  interval  a  change  had  come  over  the  surface  of 
the  sea,  which  influenced  the  fate  both  of  pursuers  and 
pursued. 

The  dark  line,  first  narrowly  observed  by  the  crew  of  the 
Catamaran  upon  the  distant  verge  of  the  horizon,  was  no 
longer  a  mere  streak  of  shadowed  water.  It  had  developed 
during  the  continuance  of  the  chase,  and  now  covered  both 
sea  and  sky,  —  the  latter  with  black  cumbrous  clouds,  the 
former  with  quick  curling  waves,  that  lashed  the  water-casks 
supporting  both  rafts,  and  proclaimed  the  approach,  if  not  of 
a  storm,  at  least  a  fresh  breeze,  —  likely  to  change  the  char- 
acter of  the  chase  hitherto  kept  up  between  them. 

And  very  quickly  came  that  change  to  pass.  By  the  time 
that  the  castaways  on  the  great  raft  had  once  more  headed 
their  clumsy  embarkation  to  the  pursuit,  they  saw  the  more 
trim  craft,  —  by  her  builders  yclept  the  Catamaran,  —  with 
her  sails  spread  widely  to  the  wind,  gliding  rapidly  out  of 
their  reach,  and  "  walking  the  water  like  a  thing  of  life." 

They  no  longer  continued  the  pursuit.  They  might  have 
done  so,  but  for  the  waves  that  now,  swelling  up  around  the 
raft,  admonished  them  of  a  danger  hitherto  unknown.  With 
the  spray  rushing  over  them,  and  the  sea,  at  each  fresh  as- 
sault, threatening  to  engulf  their  ill-governed  craft,  they 
found  sufficient  employment  for  their  remaining  strength,  in 
clinging  to  the  timbers  of  their  rude  embarkation. 


318  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

CHAPTER    LXXXVIII. 

A   THREATENED    STORM. 

TJHUS,  once  more,  were  the  Catamarans  deliveied  from 
a  terrible  danger,  —  almost  literally  "  from  the  jaws  of 
death";  and  once  more,  too,  by  what  appeared  a  providential 
interference. 

Ben  Brace  actually  believed  it  so.  It  would  have  been 
difficult  for  any  one  to  have  thought  otherwise;  but  the 
moral  mind  of  the  sailor  had  of  late  undergone  some  very 
serious  transformations ;  and  the  perils  through  which  they 
had  been  passing,  —  with  their  repeated  deliverances,  all 
apparently  due  to  some  unseen  hand,  —  had  imbued  him 
with  a  belief  that  the  Almighty  must  be  everywhere,  —  even 
in  the  midst  of  the  illimitable  ocean. 

It  was  this  faith  that  had  sustained  him  through  the  many 
trials  through  which  they  had  gone ;  and  that,  in  the  very 
latest  and  last,  —  when  the  ruffians  upon  the  raft  were  fast 
closing  upon  the  Catamaran,  —  had  led  him  to  give  encour- 
aging counsels  to  Snowball  to  keep  on.  It  had  encouraged 
him,  in  fine,  to  strike  the  boat-hook  from  the  grasp  of  Le 
Gros,  —  which  act  had  ended  by  putting  their  implacable 
enemy  hors  du  combat,  and  conducting  to  their  final  deliver- 
ance. 

It  was  this  belief  that  still  hindered  the  brave  mariner,  — 
now  that  the  sea  began  to  surge  around  them,  and  the  spray 
to  dash  over  the  deck  of  their  frail  craft,  —  hindered  him 
rrom  giving  way  to  a  new  despair ;  and  from  supposing  that 
they  had  been  only  delivered  from  one  danger  to  be  over- 
whelmed by  another. 

For  some  time  did  it  seem  as  if  this  was  to  be  their  fate, 
—  as  if,  literally,  they  were  to  be  overwhelmed.  The  breeze 
which  had  so  opportunely  carried  the  Catamaran  beyond  the 


A  THREATENED  STORM.  319 

reach  of  the  pursuing  raft,  soon  freshened  into  a  gale ;  and 
threatened  to  continue  increasing  to  that  still  more  dreaded 
condition  of  the  ocean  atmosphere,  —  a  storm. 

The  rafts  were  no  longer  in  sight  of  each  other.  Scarce 
fire  minutes  had  elapsed,  after  being  grappled  by  Le  Gros, 
when  the  breeze  had  caught  hold  of  the  Catamaran ;  andj 
from  her  superior  sailing  qualities,  she  had  soon  become  sep- 
arated from  the  more  clumsy  embarkation  of  the  enemy. 

In  another  hour,  the  Catamaran,  under  good  steering,  had 
swept  several  miles  to  westward ;  while  the  raft,  no  longer 
propelled  by  oars,  and  its  rudder  but  ill-directed,  had  gone 
drifting  about:  as  if  they  who  occupied  it  were  making  onl} 
a  despairing  effort  to  keep  it  before  the  wind. 

Despite  the  rising  gale  and  the  increasing  roughness  of 
the  water,  there  were  no  despairing  people  upon  the  Catam- 
aran. Supported  by  his  faith  in  providential  protection, 
Ben  Brace  acted  as  if  there  was  no  danger ;  and  encour- 
aged his  companions  to  do  the  same. 

Every  precaution  was  adopted  to  provide  against  acci- 
dents. As  soon  as  they  saw  that  the  pursuer  was  left  be- 
hind,—  and  they  were  no  longer  in  any  peril  from  that 
quarter,  —  the  sail  was  lowered  upon  the  mast,  as  there  was 
too  great  a  breadth  of  it  for  the  constantly  freshening  breeze, 
It  was  not  taken  in  altogether,  but  only  "  shortened,"  — 
reefed  in  a  rude  fashion,  —  so  as  to  expose  only  half  its  sur- 
face to  the  wind ;  and  this  proved  just  sufficient  to  keep  the 
Catamaran  "trim"  and  steady  upon  her  course. 

It  would  not  be  correct  to  say  that  her  captain  and  ci'ew 
felt  no  fears  for  her  safety.  On  the  contrary,  they  experi 
eneod  the  apprehensions  natural  to  such  a  situation ;  and  for 
tliia  reason  did  they  take  every  precaution  against  the  danger 
that  threatened.  The  Coromantee  might  have  given  way  to 
a  feeling  of  fatalism,  —  peculiar  to  his  country  and  class,  — 
but  there  was  no  danger  of  Ben  Brace  doing  so.  Notwith- 
standing las  faith  about  Being  protected  by  ProvHence,  tht 


J20  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS, 

jailor  also  believed,  that  self-action  is  required  on  the  part 
of  those  who  stand  in  need  of  such  protection ;  and  that 
nothing  should  be  left  undone  to  deserve  it. 

The  situation  was  altogether  new  to  them.  It  was  the 
Srst  thing  in  the  shape  of  a  storm,  or  even  a  gale,  they  had 
encountered  since  the  construction  of  their  curious  craft. 
Ever  since  the  burning  of  the  Pandora,  they  had  been 
highly  favored  in  this  respect.  They  had  been  navigating 
their  various  embarkations  through  a  "  summer  sea,"  in  the 
midst  of  the  tropical  ocean,  —  where  ofttimes  whole  weeks 
elapse  without  either  winds  or  waves  occurring  to  disturb 
its  tranquillity,  —  a  sea,  in  short,  where  the  "  calm  "  is  more 
dreaded  than  the  "  storm."  Up  to  this  time  they  had  not 
experienced  any  violent  commotion  of  the  atmosphere,— 
nothing  stronger  than  what  is  termed  a  "  fresh  breeze,"  and 
in  that  the  Catamaran  had  proved  herself  an  accomplished 
sailer. 

It  was  now  to  be  seen  how  she  would  behave  under  a 
gale  that  might  end  in  a  storm,  —  perhaps  a  terrific  tempest. 

It  would  be  untrue  to  say  that  her  crew  looked  forward 
to  the  event  without  fear.  They  did  not.  As  said,  they 
suffered  considerable  apprehension ;  and  would  have  felt  it 
more  keenly,  but  for  the  cheering  influence  of  that  faith 
with  which  her  captain  was  sustained,  and  which  he  en- 
deavored to  impart  to  his  companions. 

Leaning  upon  this,  they  looked  with  less  dread  upon  the 
sky  lowering  above  and  the  storm  gathering  around  them. 

As  the  day  advanced  the  wind  continued  to  freshen  until 
about  the  hour  of  noon.  It  was  then  blowing  a  brisk  gale. 
Fortunately  for  the  crew  of  the  Catamaran,  it  did  not  be- 
ujme  a  storm.  Had  it  done  so  their  frail  craft  must  have 
been  shivered,  and  her  component  parts  once  more  scat- 
tered over  the  ocean. 

It  was  just  as  much  as  her  crew  could  accomplish  to  keep 
them  together,  in  a  sea  only  moderately  rough,  —  compared 


A  THREATENED  STORM.  321 

irith  what  it  would  have  been  in  a  storm.  This  they  dis- 
covered during  the  afternoon  of  that  day;  and  it  was  no 
great  comfort  to  them  to  reflect  that,  in  the  event  of  a  real 
storm  being  encountered,  the  Catamaran  would  undoubtedly 
go  to  pieces.  They  could  only  console  themselves  with  tha 
hope  that  such  an  event  might  not  arise  until  they  should 
reach  land,  or,  which  was  perhaps  more  probable,  be  picked 
up  by  a  ship. 

The  chances  of  terminating  their  perilous  voyage  in 
either  way  were  so  slight  and  distant,  that  they  scarce  gave 
thought  to  them.  When  they  did,  it  was  only  to  be  remind- 
ed of  the  extreme  hopelessness  of  their  situation,  and  yield 
to  despairing  reflections.  On  that  particular  day  they  had 
no  time  to  speculate  upon  such  remote  probabilities  as  the 
ultimate  ending  of  their  voyage.  They  found  occupation 
enough,  —  both  for  their  minds  and  bodies,  —  in  insuring  its 
continuance.  Not  only  had  they  to  watch  every  wave  as  it 
came  rolling  upon  them,  —  and  keep  the  Catamaran  trimly 
set  to  receive  it,  —  but  they  had  to  look  to  the  timbers  of 
the  craft,  and  see  that  the  lashings  did  not  get  loose. 

Several  times  did  the  sea  break  quite  over  them ;  and  but 
that  Lilly  Lalee  and  little  William  were  fast  tied  to  the  foot 
of  the  mast,  they  would  both  have  been  washed  off,  and 
probably  lost  amidst  the  dark  waste  of  waters. 

It  was  just  as  much  as  the  two  strong  men  could  do  to 
keep  aboard  and  even  they  had  ropes  knotted  round  their 
wrists  and  attached  to  the  timbers  of  the  raft,  —  in  case  of 
their  getting  carried  overboard. 

Once  a  huge  billow  swept  over,  submerging  them  several 
feet  under  the  sea.  At  this  crisis  all  four  thought  that  their 
last  hour  had  come,  and  for-  some  seconds  were  under  the 
belief  that  they  were  going  to  the  bottom,  and  would  nerei 
more  look  upon  the  light  of  day. 

But  for  the  peculiar  construction  of  their  raft  this,  in  all 
likelihood,  would  have  been  the  result;  bv»t  those 
H*  v 


822  THE  OCEAN   WAIFS. 

water  -casks  were  not  to  be  "  drowned  "  in  such  a  fashion 
and  soon  •' bobbed"  back  to  the  surface,  once  more  bringing 
the  Catamaran  and  her  crew  above  water. 

It  was  fortunate  for  them  that  Ben  Brace  and  SnowtaU 
had  not  trusted  too  much  to  fate  while  constructing  their 
abnormal  craft.  The  experienced  sailor  had  foreseen  the 
difficulties  that  on  this  day  beset  them;  and,  instead  of 
making  a  mere  temporary  embarkation,  to  suit  the  condi- 
tions of  the  summer  sea  that  then  surrounded  them,  he  had 
spared  no  pains  to  render  it  seaworthy  as  far  as  circum- 
stances would  allow.  He  and  Snowball  had  used  their 
united  strength  in  drawing  tight  the  cords  with  which  the 
timbers  were  bound  together,  —  as  well  as  those  that  lashed 
them  to  the  casks,  —  and  their  united  skill  in  disposing  the 
rude  materials  in  a  proper  manner. 

Even  after  "  launching  "  the  Catamaran,  —  every  day, 
almost  every  hour,  had  they  been  doing  something  to  im- 
prove her,  —  either  by  giving  the  craft  greater  strength  and 
compactness,  or  in  some  other  way  rendering  her  more 
worthy  both  of  the  sea  and  her  sailors. 

By  this  providential  industry  they  were  now  profiting: 
since  by  it,  and  it  alone,  were  they  enabled  to  "  ride  out " 
the  gale. 

Had  they  trusted  to  chance  and  given  way  to  indolence, 
—  all  the  more  natural  under  the  very  hopelessness  of  their 
situation,  —  they  would  never  have  outlived  that  day.  The 
Catamaran  might  not  have  gone  to  the  bottom,  but  she 
would  have  gone  to  pieces;  and  it  is  not  likely  that  any  of 
her  crew  would  have  survived  the  catastrophe. 

As  it  was,  both  raft  and  crew  weathered  the  gale  in  safety. 
Before  sunset  the  wind  had  fallen  to  a  gentle  zephyr ;  the 
tropical  sea  was  gradually  returning  to  its  normal  state  of 
comparative  calm ;  and  the  Catamaran,  with  her  broad  sail 
once  more  spread  to  the  bree7«,  was  scudding  on,  —  guided 
in  her  course  by  the  golden  luminary  slowly  descending 
towards  the  western  edge  of  o>  cloudless  heaven^ 


A  STARTLING   SHRIEK.  323 

CHAPTER    LXXXIX. 

A   STARTLING    SHRIEK. 

THE  night  proved  pleasanter  than  the  day.  The  wind 
was  no  longer  an  enemy;  and  the  breeze  that  suc- 
ceeded was  more  advantageous  than  would  have  been  a  dead 
calm;  since  it  steadied  the  craft  amidst  the  rolling  of  the 
swell. 

Before  midnight  the  swell  itself  had  subsided.  It  had 
never  reached  any  great  height,  as  the  gale  had  been  of 
short  continuance ;  and  for  the  same  reason  it  had  suddenly 
gone  down  again. 

With  the  return  of  smooth  water  they  were  able  to  betake 
ihemselves  to  rest  They  needed  it,  after  such  a  series  of 
fatigues  and  fears ;  and  having  swallowed  a  few  morsels  of 
their  unpalatable  food,  and  washed  it  down  by  a  cup  of 
diluted  Canary,  they  all  went  to  rest. 

Neither  the  wet  planking  on  which  they  were  compelled 
to  encouch  themselves,  nor  the  sea-soaked  garments  clinging 
round  their  bodies,  hindered  them  from  obtaining  sleep. 

In  a  colder  clime  their  condition  would  have  been  suffi- 
iiently  comfortless;  but  in  the  ocean  atmosphere  of  the 
torrid  zone  the  night  hours  are  warm  enough  to  render  "  wet 
sheets  "  not  only  endurable,  but  at  times  even  pleasant.  • 

I  have  said  that  all  of  them  went  to  sleep.  It  was  not 
their  usual  custom  to  do  so.  On  other  nights  one  was 
always  upon  the  watch,  —  either  the  captain  himself,  the 
ex-cook,  or  the  boy.  Of  course  Lilly  Lalee  enjoyed  im- 
munity from  this  kind  of  duty :  since  she  was  not,  properly 
speaking,  one  of  the  "  crew,"  but  only  a  "  passenger." 

Their  customary  night-watch  had  a  twofold  object:  to 
hold  the  Catamaran  to  her  course,  and  to  keep  a  lookout 
over  the  sea,  —  the  latter  having  reference  to  the  chancel 
•f  seeing  a  sail. 


824  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

On  this  particular  night  their  vigil,  —  had  it  been  kept,  — 
might  have  had  a  threefold  purpose :  for  it  is  not  to  be  for- 
gotten that  they  were  still  not  so  very  far  from  their  late 
pursuers.  They  too  must  have  been  making  way  with  the 
wind. 

Neither  had  the  Catamarans  forgotten  it ;  but  even  with 
this  thought  before  their  minds,  they  were  unable  to  resist 
the  fascinations  of  Morpheus ;  and  leaving  the  craft  to  take 
her  own  course,  the  ships,  if  there  were  any,  to  sail  silently 
by,  and  the  big  raft,  if  chance  so  directed  it,  to  overtake 
them,  they  yielded  themselves  to  unconscious  slumber. 

Simultaneously  were  they  awakened,  and  by  a  sound 
that  might  have  awakened  the  dead.  It  was  a  shriek  that 
came  pealing  over  the  surface  of  the  ocean,  —  as  unearthly 
in  its  intonation  as  if  only  the  ocean  itself  could  have  pro- 
duced it!  It  was  short,  sharp,  quick,  and  clear;  and  so 
loud  as  to  startle  even  Snowball  from  his  torpidity. 

The  Coromantee  was  the  first  to  inquire  into  its  char- 
acter. 

'*  Wha'  de  debbil  am  dat  ?  "  he  asked,  rubbing  his  ears  to 
make  sure  that  he  was  not  laboring  under  a  delusion. 

"  Shiver  my  timbers  if  I  can  tell ! "  rejoined  the  sailor, 
equally  puzzled  by  what  he  had  heard. 

"  Dat  soun'  berry  like  da  voice  o'  some  'un  go  drown,  — 
berry  like.  Wha'  say  you,  Massa  Brace  ?  " 

"  It  was  a  good  bit  like  the  voice  of  a  man  cut  in  two  by 
a  shark.  That 's  what  it  minded  me  of." 

"  By  golly  !  you  speak  de  '.roof.  It  wa  jess  like  that,  — 
jess  like  the  lass  s'riek  ob  Massa  Grow." 

"  And  yet,"  continued  the  sailor,  after  a  moment's  reflec- 
tion, "  't  war  n't  like  that  neyther.  'T  war  n't  human,  no- 
tow  :  leastwise,  I  niver  heerd  such  come  out  o'  a  human 
throat" 

"  A  don't  b'lieb  de  big  raff  can  be  near.  We  hab  been 
runnin'  down  de  wind  ebba  since  you  knock  off  dat  boat- 


A  STARTLING  SHRINK.  323 

hook.  We  got  de  start  o'  de  Pandoras;  an'  dar's  no  mis« 
take  but  we  hab  kep  de  distance.  Dat  s'riek  no  come  from 
dem." 

"Look  yonder!"  cried  little  William,  interrupting  the 
dialogue.  "  I  see  something." 

"  Whereaway  ?     What  like  be  it  ?  "  inquired  the  sailor. 

"  Yonder  I "  answered  the  lad,  pointing  over  the  starboard 
bow  of  the  Catamaran;  "about  three  cables'  length  cut  in 
Ihe  water.  It 's  a  black  lump  ;  it  looks  like  a  boat." 

"  A  boat !  Shiver  my  timbers  if  thee  bean't  right,  lad. 
I  see  it  now.  It  do  look  somethin'  as  you  say.  But  what 
'ud  a  boat  be  doin'  here,  —  out  in  the  middle  o'  the  At- 
lantic?" 

"Dat  am  a  boat,"  interposed  Snowball.  "Fo'  sartin  it 
ana." 

"It  must  be,"  said  the  sailor,  after  more  carefully  scru- 
tinizing it.  "  It  is !  I  see  its  shape  better  now.  There  's 
Borne  un  in  it.  I  see  only  one  ;  ah,  he  be  standin'  up  in  the 
middle  o'  it,  like  a  mast.  It  be  a  man  though ;  an'  I  dare 
say  the  same  as  gi'ed  that  shout,  if  he  be  a  human ;  though, 
sartin,  there  war  n't  much  human  in  it." 

As  if  to  confirm  the  sailor's  last  assertion,  the  shriek  waa 
repeated,  precisely  as  it  had  been  uttered  before;  though 
now,  entering  ears  that  were  awake,  it  produced  a  somewhat 
different  impression. 

The  voice  was  evidently  that  of  a  man.  Even  under  the 
circumstances,  it  could  be  nothing  else,  but  of  a  man  who 
had  taken  leave  of  his  senses.  It  was  the  wild  cry  of  » 
maniac ! 

The  crew  of  the  Catamaran  might  have  continued  in 
doubt  as  to  this  had  they  been  treated  only  to  a  repetition  of 
the  shriek ;  but  this  was  followed  by  a  series  of  speeches,  — 
incoherent,  it  is  true,  but  spoken  in  an  intelligible  tongue,  and 
ending  in  a  peal  of  laughter  such  as  might  be  heard  echoing 
•long  the  corridors  of  T  -lunatic  asylum  ! 


826  THE  OCEAN   WAIFS. 

One  and  all  of  them  stood  looking  and  listening. 

It  was  a  moonless  night,  and  had  been  a  dark  one ;  but  i, 
was  now  close  upon  morning.  Already  had  the  aurora  tinged 
the  horizon  with  roseate  hues.  The  gray  light  of  dawn  was 
beginning  to  scatter  its  soft  rays  over  the  surface  of  the  ocean  ; 
ai:d  objects  —  had  there  been  any  —  could  be  distinguished 
at  a  considerable  distance. 

Certainly  there  was  an  object,  —  a  thing  of  boat-shape, 
with  a  human  form  standing  near  its  middle.  It  was  a  boat, 
a  man  in  it ;  and,  from  the  exclamation  and  laughter  to  which 
they  had  listened,  there  could  be  no  doubt  about  the  man 
being  mad. 

Mad  or  sane,  why  should  they  shun  him  ?  There  were 
two  strong  men  on  the  raft,  who  need  not  fear  to  encounter 
a  lunatic  under  any  circumstances,  —  even  in  the  midst  of 
the  ocean.  Nor  did  they  fear  it ;  for  as  soon  as  they  became 
fally  convinced  that  they  saw  a  boat  with  a  man  in  it,  they 
"ported"  the  helm  of  the  Catamaran,  and  stood  directly 
towards  it. 

Less  than  ten  minutes'  sailing  in  the  altered  course  brought 
them  within  fair  view  of  the  object  that  had  caused  them  to 
deviate ;  and,  after  scrutinizing  it,  less  than  ten  seconds  en- 
abled them  to  satisfy  their  minds  as  to  the  strange  craft  and 
its  yet  stranger  occupant. 

They  saw  before  them  the  "  gig  "  of  the  slaver ;  and,  stand- 
ing "  midships  "  in  the  boat,  — just  half-way  tietween  stem 
and  stern,  —  they  saw  the  captain  of  that  ill-starred,  ill-fated 


A  MADMAN  IN  MID-OCEAN.  82? 

CHAPTER    XC. 

A   MADMAN   IN   MID-OCEAN. 

IN  the  minds  of  the  Catamaran's  crew  there  was  no  longer 
any  cause  for  conjectnre.  The  boat-shaped  object  on  th« 
water,  and  the  human  form  standing  up  within  it,  were  mys- 
teries no  more  ;  nor  was  there  any  when  that  boat  and  that 
human  being  were  identified. 

If  in  the  spectacle  there  was  aught  still  to  puzzle  them,  it 
was  the  seeing  only  one  man  in  the  boat  instead  of  six. 

There  should  have  been  six ;  since  that  was  the  number 
that  the  gig  had  originally  carried  away  from  the  burning 
bark,  —  five  others  besides  the  one  now  seen,  —  and  who, 
notwithstanding  a  great  change  in  his  appearance,  was  still 
recognizable  as  the  slaver's  captain. 

Where  were  the  missing  men,  —  the  mates,  the  carpenter 
and  two  common  sailors,  who  had  escaped  along  with  him  ? 
Were  they  in  the  boat,  lying  down,  and  so  concealed  from 
the  view  of  those  upon  the  Catamaran  ?  Or  had  they 
succumbed  to  some  fearful  fate,  leaving  only  that  solitary 
survivor  ? 

The  gig  sat  high  in  the  water.  Those  upon  the  Catamaran 
could  not  see  over  its  gunwale  unless  by  approaching  nearer, 
and  this  they  hesitated  to  do. 

Indeed,  on  identifying  the  boat  and  the  individual  stand- 
ing in  it,  they  had  suddenly  hauled  down  the  sail  and  were 
lying  to,  using  their  oar  to  keep  them  from  drifting  any 
nearer. 

They  had  done  so  from  an  instinctive  apprehension 
They  knew  that  the  men  who  had  gone  off  in  the  gig  were 
not  a  whit  better  than  those  upon  the  big  raft;  for  the 
officers  of  the  slaver,  in  point  of  ruffianism,  were  upon  a 
par  with  their  crew.  With  this  knowledge,  it  was  a  ques- 


328  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

lion  for  consideration  whether  the  Catamarans  would  be  safe 
in  approaching  the  boat.  If  the  six  were  still  in  it,  and 
out  of  food  and  water,  like  those  on  the  large  raft,  they 
would  undoubtedly  despoil  the  Catamaran,  just  as  the  others 
had  designed  doing.  From  such  as  they  no  mercy  need  be 
expected ;  and  as  it  was  not  likely  any  succor  could  be  ob- 
tained from  them,  it  would,  perhaps,  be  better,  in  every 
way,  to  "give  them  a  wide  berth." 

Such  were  the  thoughts  that  passed  hastily  through  the 
mind  of  Ben  Brace,  and  were  communicated  to  his  com- 
panions. 

Were  the  five  missing  men  still  aboard  the  boat  ? 

They  might  be  lying  down  along  the  bottom,  —  though  it 
was  not  likely  they  could  be  asleep  ?  That  appeared  almost 
impossible,  considering  the  shouts  and  screams  which  the 
captain  at  intervals  still  continued  to  send  forth. 

"  Ba  de  great  gorramity !  "  muttered  Snowball,  "  a  doan't 
b'lieb  one  ob  dem  's  leff  'board  dat  boat,  'ceptin  de  ole 
'kipper  himseff ;  an  ob  him  dar  am  nuffin  leff  cep'n  de  body. 
Dat  man's  intlek  am  clar  gone.  He  am  ravin'  mad  ! " 

"  You  're  right,  Snowy,"  assented  the  sailor ;  "  there  be 
ne'er  a  one  there  but  himself.  At  all  events  they  ain't  all 
there.  I  can  tell  by  the  way  the  gig  sits  up  out  o'  the 
water.  No  boat  o'  her  size,  wi'  six  men  aboard,  could  have 
her  gunnel  as  high  as  that  ere.  No !  If  there  be  any 
besides  the  captain,  there  's  only  one  or  two.  We  need  n't 
fear  to  go  as  nigh  as  we  like.  Let 's  put  about,  an'  board 
the  craft,  any  how.  What  pay  ye?" 

"  Haben't  de  leas'  objecsnun,  Massa  Brace,  so  long  you 
link  dar  no  fear.  Dis  chile  ready  take  de  chance.  If  dar 
be  any  odder  cep'n  de  'kipper,  it  no  like  dey  am  'trong  'nuff 
to  bully  we  nohow.  De  two  ob  us  be  equal  match  fo'  any 
four  ob  dem,  —  say  nuffin  ob  lilly  Will'm." 

"  1  feel  a'most  sartin,"  rejoined  the  sailor,  still  undecided, 
*  there  be  only  him.  If  that 's  the  case,  our  best  way  is  to 


A  MADMAN  IN  MID-OCEAN.  329 

close  up,  and  take  possession  o'  the  boat.  We  ntay  Lave 
some  trouble  wi'  him  if  he  's  gone  mad ;  an'  from  the  way 
he  be  runnin'  on,  it  do  look  like  it.  Never  mind !  I  dare 
say  we  '11  be  able  to  manage  him.  Port  about,  an'  let  'a 
see  the  thing  through." 

Snowball  was  at  the  steering-oar,  and,  thus  commanded 
by  her  captain,  he  once  more  headed  the  Catamaran  in  the 
direction  of  the  drifting  boat,  —  while  the  sailor  and  William 
betook  them  to  the  oars. 

Whether  the  occupant  of  the  gig  had  yet  perceived  the 
raft  was  not  certain.  It  is  likely  he  had  not,  since  the  yells 
and  incoherent  speeches  to  which  he  had  been  giving  utter- 
ance appeared  to  be  addressed  to  no  one,  but  were  more 
rika —  what  they  believed  them  to  be  —  the  wild  ravings 
of  a  lunatic. 

It  was  still  only  the  gray  twilight  of  morning,  with  a  slight 
fog  upon  the  water;  and  although  through  this  the  Cata- 
marans had  recognized  the  gig  and  captain  of  the  Pandora^ 
they  had  done  so  with  certain  souvenirs  to  guide  them.  Both 
the  boat  and  its  occupant  had  been  seen  only  indistinctly : 
and  it  was  possible  that  the  latter  had  not  seen  them,  and 
was  still  unsuspicious  of  their  presence. 

As  they  drew  nearer,  the  light  at  each  moment  increasing 
in  brightness,  there  was  no  longer  any  uncertainty  as  to  theii 
being  seen ;  for,  along  with  the  yells  uttered  by  the  occupant 
of  the  gig,  could  be  heard  the  significant  speeches  of,  "  Sail 
ho!  Ship  ahoy!  What  ship's  that?  Heave  to,  and  be 
— !  Heave  to,  you  infernal  lubbers  !  if  you  don't  I  '11  sink 
you!" 

The  manner  in  which  these  varied  phrases  were  jumblod 
together,  intermingled  with  screeching  exclamations,  as  well 
as  the  excited  and  grotesque  gestures  that  accompanied  them, 
might  have  been  ludicrous,  but  for  the  painful  impression  it 
produced. 

There  was  no  longer  any  doubt  in  the  minds  of  those  whf 


S30  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

witnessed  his  behavior,  that  the  ex-skippei  of  the  Pandor* 
was  mad.  None  but  a  madman  would  have  spoken,  01 
acted,  as  he  wa»  doing. 

In  the  state  he  was  in,  it  would  be  dangerous  to  gc  near 
him.  This  was  evident  to  the  occupants  of  the  raft ;  and 
when  they  had  arrived  within  a  half-cable's  length  of  the 
boat,  they  suspended  the  stroke  of  the  oars,  —  with  the  inten- 
tion of  entering  upon  a  parley,  and  seeing  how  far  their 
words  might  tranquillize  him. 

"  Captain ! "  cried  the  sailor,  hailing  his  former  commander 
in  a  friendly  tone  of  voice :  "  it 's  me !  Don't  you  know  me  ? 
It 's  Ben  Brace,  one  o'  the  old  Pandora.  We  've  been  on 
this  bit  o'  raft  ever  since  the  burnin'  o'  the  bark.  Myself 
and  Snowball  —  " 

At  this  moment  the  sailor's  epitomized  narrative  was  in- 
terrupted by  a  fiendish  yell,  proceeding  from  the  throat  of 
the  maniac.  They  were  now  near  enough  to  have  a  clear 
view  of  his  face,  and  could  note  the  expression  of  his 
features.  The  play  of  these,  and  the  wild  rolling  of  his 
eyes,  confirmed  them  in  their  belief  as  to  his  insanity. 
There  could  be  no  doubt  about  it ;  but  if  there  had,  what 
soon  after  succeeded  was  proof  sufficient  to  satisfy  them. 

During  the  continuance  of  the  discourse  addressed  to 
him  by  the  sailor,  he  had  kept  silent,  until  the  word  "  Snow- 
ball "  fell  upon  his  ears.  Then  all  at  once  he  became  terri- 
bly excited,  —  as  was  testified  by  a  terrible  shriek,  a  twitch- 
ing contortion  of  his  features,  and  a  glaring  in  his  eyes  that 
was  awful  to  befiolcT. 

"  Snowball ! "  screamed  he ;  "  Snowoall,  you  say,  do  you  ? 
Snowball,  the  infernal  dog!  Show  him  to  me  !  Ach!  Blood 
and  furies  !  it  was  he  that  fired  my  ship.  Where  is  he  ? 
Let  me  at  him !  Let  me  lay  my  hands  upon  his  black 
throat !  I  ll  teach  the  sneaking  nigger  how  to  carry  a 
iandie  that  '11  light  him  into  the  next  world.  Snowball 
Where,  —  where  is  he?" 


THE  INSANE  SWIMMER.  831 

At  this  moment  his  rolling  orbs  became  suddenly  steadied , 
and  all  could  see  that  his  gaze  was  fixed  upon  the  Coro- 
mantee  with  a  sort  of  desperate  identification. 

Snowball  might  have  quailed  under  that  glance,  had  there 
been  time  for  him  to  take  heed  of  it.  But  there  was  not : 
for  upon  the  instant  it  was  given  the  madman  uttered 
another  wild  screech,  and,  rising  into  the  air,  sprang  several 
feet  over  the  gunwale  of  the  gig. 

For  a  second  or  two  he  was  lost  to  sight  under  the  water 
Then,  rising  to  the  surface,  he  was  seen  swimming  with  vifif- 
orous  sweep  towards  the  Catamaran. 


CHAPTER    XCI. 

THE   INSANE    SWIMMER. 

A  DOZEN  strokes  would  have  carried  him  up  to  the 
craft ;  which  they  could  not  have  hindered  him  from 
boarding,  except  by  using  some  deadly  violence.  To  avoid 
this,  the  oars  were  plied ;  and  the  raft  rapidly  pulled  in  a 
contrary  direction. 

For  all  this,  so  swiftly  did  the  maniac  make  way  through 
the  water,  that  it  was  just  as  much  as  they  could  do  to  keep 
the  Catamaran  clear  of  his  grasp  ;  and  it  was  only  after  Ben 
Brace  and  Snowball  had  got  fairly  bent  to  their  oars,  that 
they  could  insure  themselves  against  being  overtaken.  Then 
became  it  a  chase  in  which  there  was  no  great  advantage  in 
speed  between  the  pursued  and  the  pursuer ;  though  what 
little  there  might  have  been  was  in  favor  of  the  former. 

How  long  this  singular  chase  might  have  continued,  it  la 
impossible  to  say.  Perhaps  until  the  lunatic  had  exhausted 
his  insane  strength,  and  sunk  into  the  sea :  since  he  appeared 


832  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

•»  have  no  Idea  of  making  an  attempt  to  return  to  the  boat 
He  never  looked  round  to  see  how  far  he  was  leaving  it  be- 
hind him.  On  the  contrary,  he  swam  straight  on,  his  eye* 
steadfastly  fixed  upon  the  one  object  that  seemed  to  have 
possession  of  his  soul,  —  the  Coromantee !  That  it  was  of 
him  only  he  was  thinking  could  be  told  from  his  speech,  — 
for  even  while  in  the  water  he  continued  to  utter  impreca- 
tions on  the  head  of  the  negro,  —  his  name  being  every 
moment  mentioned  in  terms  of  menace. 

The  chase  could  not  have  lasted  much  longer,  —  even 
had  it  been  permitted  to  terminate  by  the  exhaustion  of  the 
insane  swimmer.  The  supernatural  strength  of  insanity 
could  not  forever  sustain  him ;  and  in  due  time  he  would 
have  sunk  helplessly  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea. 

But  this  was  not  the  sort  of  death  that  Fate  had  designed 
for  him.  A  still  more  violent  ending  of  his  life  was  in  store 
for  the  unfortunate  wretch.  Though  he  himself  knew  it 
not,  those  aboard  the  Catamaran  had  now  become  aware  of 
its  approach. 

Behind  him,  —  scarce  half  a  cable's  length,  —  two  crea- 
tures were  seen  moving  through  the  water.  Horrible-look- 
ing creatures  they  were:  for  they  were  hammer-headed 
sharks !  Both  were  conspicuously  seen :  for  they  had  risen 
to  the  surface,  and  were  swimming  with  their  dark  dorsal 
fins  protruded  above,  and  set  with  all  the  triangular  sharp- 
ness of  staysails.  Although  they  had  not  been  observed 
before  by  those  on  the  Catamaran,  they  appeared  to  have 
been  swimming  in  the  proximity  of  the  gig,  —  on  which, 
beyond  doubt,  they  had  been  for  some  time  attending. 

They  were  now  advancing  side  by  side,  in  the  same  direc- 
tion as  the  swimmer,  and  there  could  be  no  doubt  as  to  their 
design.  They  were  evidently  in  chase  of  him,  with  as 
much  eagerness  as  he  was  in  chase  of  the  Catamaran. 

The  wretched  man  neither  saw  nor  thought  of  them. 
Even  had  he  seen  them  it  is  questionable  whether  he  would 


THE  INSANE  SWIMMER.  333 

have  made  any  attempt  to  escape  from  them.  They  would, 
in  all  likelihood,  have  appeared  a  part  of  the  fearful  phan 
tasmagoria  already  filling  his  brain. 

In  any  case  he  couid  not  have  eluded  those  earnest  and 
eager  pursuers,  —  unless  by  the  intervention  of  those  upon 
the  raft ;  and  even  had  these  wished  to  succor  him,  it  would 
have  required  a  most  prompt  and  adroit  interference.  They 
did  wish  it,  even  became  desirous  to  save  him.  Their  hearts 
melted  within  them  as  they  saw  the  unfortunate  man,  maniac 
though  he  was,  in  such  a  situation.  Fear  him  as  they  might, 
—  and  deem  him  an  enemy  as  they  did,  —  still  was  he  a 
human  being,  —  one  of  their  own  kind,  —  and  their  natural 
instinct  of  hostility  towards  those  ravenous  monsters  of  the 
deep  had  now  obliterated  that  which  they  might  have  felt  for 
him  about  to  become  their  prey. 

Risking  everything  from  the  encounter  which  they  might 
expect  with  a  madman,  they  suspended  their  oars,  and  then 
commenced  backing  towards  him.  Even  Snowball  exerted 
himself  to  bring  the  Catamaran  within  saving  distance  of 
the  wretch  who,  in  his  insane  hatred,  was  threatening  his 
own  destruction. 

Their  goods  intentions,  however,  proved  of  no  avail.  The 
man  was  destined  to  destruction.  Before  they  could  get 
near  enough  to  make  any  effective  demonstration  in  his  fa- 
vor, the  sharks  had  closed  upon  him.  They  who  would  have 
saved  him  saw  it,  and  ceased  their  exertions  to  become  spec- 
tators of  the  tragical  catastrophe. 

It  was  a  brief  affair.  The  monsters  swam  up,  one  on 
each  side  of  their  intended  victim,  till  their  uncouth  bodies 
were  parallel  with  his.  He  saw  one  of  them  first,  and,  with 
tin  instinct  more  true  than  his  dethroned  powers  of  reason, 
swerved  out  of  the  way  to  avoid  it.  The  effort  resulted  in 
placing  him  within  reach  of  the  other,  that,  suddenly  turn- 
ing upon  its  side,  grasped  him  between  its  extended  jaws. 

The  shriek  that  followed  appeared  to  proceed  from  only 


334  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

the  half  of  his  body  ;  for  the  other  half,  completely  disscv 
ered,  had  been  already  carried  off  between  the  terrible  teeth 
of  the  zyg&na. 

There  was  but  one  cry.  There  was  not  tin;e  for  another, 
even  had  there  been  strength.  Before  it  could  have  been 
uttered,  the  remaining  inoiety  of  the  madman's  body  was 
aeized  by  the  second  shark,  and  borne  down  into  the  voice 
less  abysm  of  the  ocean ! 


CHAPTER   XCII. 

BOARDING    THE    BOAT. 

BACK  to  the  boat ! 
In  the  minds  of  the  Catamaran's  crew  naturally  did 
this  resolve  succeed  to  the  spectacle  they  had  just  witnessed. 
There  was  nothing  to  stay  them  on  that  spot.  The  blood- 
stained water,  which  momentarily  marked  the  scene  of  the 
tragedy,  had  no  further  interest  for  those  who  had  been  spec- 
tators to  it ;  and  once  more  heading  their  craft  for  the  drift- 
ing gig,  they  made  way  towards  it  as  fast  as  their  oars  and 
the  sail,  now  reset,  would  carry  them. 

They  no  longer  speculated  as  to  the  boat  being  occupied 
by  a  crew,  —  either  sleeping  or  awake.  In  view  of  the  events 
that  had  occurred,  it  was  scarce  possible  that  any  one,  in 
either  condition,  could  be  aboard  of  her.  She  must  huv<! 
been  abandoned,  before  that  hour,  by  all  but  the  solitary 
individual  standing  amidships,  and  pouring  out  his  insane 
utterances  to  the  ears  of  the  ocean. 

Where  were  the  men  that  were  missing?  This  was  the 
question  that  occupied  the  crew  of  the  Catamaran,  —  as  they 
advanced  towards  the  deserted  gig  —  and  to  which  they  couW 
give  no  satisfactory  answer. 


BOARDING  THE  BOAT.  835 

They  could  only  shape  conjectures,  —  none  of  which  had 
much  air  of  probability. 

From  what  they  knew  or  suspected  to  havt  occurred 
upon  the  large  raft  they  could  draw  inferences  of  a  revolting 
nature.  It  might  be  that  the  same  course  had  been  pursued 
among  those  in  the  gig;  and  yet  it  seemed  scarce  probable. 
It  was  known  that  the  latter  had  gone  off  from  the  burning 
bark,  if  not  sufficiently  provided  for  a  long  voyage,  at  least 
with  a  stock  of  both  food  and  water  that  should  have  sus* 
tained  them  for  many  days.  Little  William  had  been  a 
witness  of  their  departure,  and  ?ould  confirm  these  facts. 
Why  then  had  their  boat-voyage  resulted  so  disastrously? 
It  could  not  have  arisen  from  want.  It  could  not  have  been 
the  gale. 

In  all  probability,  had  the  sea  washed  over  them,  the  boat 
would  either  have  been  swamped  or  capsized.  The  captain 
alone  could  not  have  righted  her.  Besides,  why  should  he 
be  the  only  survivor  of  the  six  ? 

But  there  had  not  been  storm  enough  for  a  disaster  of  this 
kind ;  and  unless  by  some  dire  mismanagement,  the  men 
could  not  have  fallen  overboard. 

Still  puzzled  to  account  for  the  strange  condition  of  things, 
the  crew  of  the  Catamaran  continued  to  pull  towards  the 
gig,  and  at  length  came  up  with  it. 

There  they  beheld  a  horrid  spectacle,  though  it  afforded 
no  clew  to  what  had  occurred.  In  fact  it  left  the  affair  as 
inexplicable  as  ever.  What  they  saw  gave  them  reason  to 
believe  that  some  terrible  tragedy  had  transpired  on  board 
the  boat ;  and  that  not  the  elements,  but  the  hand  of  man, 
had  caused  the  disappearance  of  the  crew. 

Along  the  bottom  timbers  lay  stretched  a  human  form. 
It  was  not  only  lifeless,  but  disfigured  by  many  wounds,  — 
any  one  of  which  would  have  proved  mortal.  The  face  was 
gashed  in  the  most  frightful  manner ;  and  the  skull  crushed 
in  several  places,  as  If  by  repeated  blows  of  a  heavy  ham 


336  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

mer ,  while  numerous  wounds,  that  bad  been  inflicted  bj 
6ome  sbarp-bladed  weapon  or  implement,  appeared  ovei 
the  breast  and  body. 

This  mutilated  shape  of  humanity  was  lying  half  sub. 
merged  in  the  bilge-water  contained  in  the  boat,  and  which 
looked  more  like  blood.  So  deep  was  it  in  color,  and  in 
such  quantity,  that  it  was  difficult  to  believe  it  could  have 
been  etained  by  the  blood  of  only  that  one  body,  to  which, 
in  turn,  as  the  red  fluid  went  washing  over  it,  had  been  im- 
parted the  same  sanguinary  hue. 

The  features  of  the  hideous  corpse  could  not  be  identified. 
The  axe,  knife,  or  whatever  weapon  it  was,  had  defaced 
them  beyond  recognition ;  but  for  all  this,  both  Ben  Brace 
and  Snowball  recognized  the  mutilated  remains.  Some- 
thing in  the  garments  still  clinging  round  the  corpse  was 
remembered,  and  by  this  they  were  enabled  to  identify  it  as 
chat  of  one  too  well  known  to  them,  —  the  first  mate  of  the 
elaver. 

Instead  of  elucidating  the  mystery,  this  knowledge  only 
rendered  it  more  inexplicable.  It  was  evident  the  man  had 
been  murdered.  The  wounds  proved  that ;  for  from  the 
appearance  of  the  extravasated  blood  they  must  have  been 
given  while  he  was  still  alive. 

It  was  but  natural  to  suppose  that  the  deed  had  been  done 
by  his  insane  companion.  The  number  and  character  of 
the  wounds, — consisting  of  blows,  cuts,  and  gashes,  showed 
that  they  had  been  inflicted  by  some  one  out  of  his  senses ; 
for  life  must  have  been  extinct  before  half  of  them  could 
have  been  given. 

So  far  the  circumstances  seemed  clear  enough.  The 
maniac  captain  had  murdered  the  mate.  No  motive  could 
be  guessed  at ;  for  no  motive  was  needed  to  inspire  a  mad- 
man. 

Beyond  this  all  was  shrouded  in  mystery.  What  was  to 
explain  the  absence  of  the  other  four  ?  What  had  become 


THE  CATAMARAN  ABANDONED.  38? 

tK  them  ?  The  crew  of  the  Catamaran  could  only  frame 
conjectures,  —  all  of  a  horrid  nature.  That  of  Snowball  was 
the  most  rational  that  could  be  arrived  at. 

It  suggested  the  probability  that  the  first  mate  and  captain 
had  combined  in  the  destruction  of  the  others,  —  their 
motive  being  to  get  all  the  food  and  water  themselves,  and 
thus  secure  a  better  chance  of  prolonging  their  lives.  They 
might  have  accomplished  their  atrocious  design  in  various 
ways.  There  might  have  been  a  struggle  in  which  these 
two  men,  —  much  stronger  than  their  fellows,  —  had  proved 
victorious  ;  or  there  might  not  have  been  any  contest  at  all. 
The  foul  crime  could  have  been  committed  in  the  night, 
when  their  unsuspicious  comrades  were  asleep  ;  or'even  by 
the  light  of  day,  when  the  latter  were  under  the  spell  of  in- 
toxication,—  produced  by  the  brandy  that  had  furnished 
part  of  the  stores  of  the  gig. 

All  these  were  horrid  imaginings ;  but  neither  Snowba'i 
nor  the  sailor  could  help  giving  way  to  them.  Otherwise 
they  could  not  account  for  the  dreadful  drama  of  which  that 
blood-stained  boat  must  have  been  the  scene. 

Supposing  their  conjectures  to  have  been  correct,  no  won- 
der that  the  sole  survivor  of  such  scenes  should  have  been 
found  a  raving  lunatic,  —  no  wonder  the  man  had  gone 
mad  ! 


CHAPTER    XCI1I. 

THE  CATAMARAN  ABANDONED. 

FOR  some  time  the  crew  of  the  Catamaran  stood  con- 
templating the  gig  and  its  lifeless  occupant,  with  look? 
that  betokened  repugnance. 

By  reason  of  the  many  dread  scenes  they  had  already 

W  T 


838  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

passed  through,  this  feeling  was  the  less  intense,  and  grad 
ually  wore  away. 

It  was  neither  the  tune  nor  the  place  for  any  show  of 
bentimentalism.  Their  own  perilous  situation  was  toe 
strongly  impressed  on  their  minds  to  admit  of  unprofitable 
speculations ;  and  instead  of  indulging  in  idle  conjectures 
about  the  past,  they  directed  their  thoughts  to  the  future. 

The  first  consideration  was,  what  was  to  be  done  with 
the  gig? 

They  would  take  possession  of  her,  of  course.  There 
could  be  no  question  about  this, 

It  is  .true  the  Catamaran  had  done  them  good  service. 
She  had  served  to  keep  them  afloat,  and  thus  far  saved 
their  lives. 

In  calm  weather  they  could  have  made  themselves  very 
comfortable  on  their  improvised  embarkation ;  and  might 
have  remained  safe  upon  it,  so  long  as  their  water  and  pro- 
visions lasted.  But  with  such  a  slow-sailing  craft  the  voyage 
.might  last  longer  than  either ;  and  then  it  could  only  result 
in  certain  death.  They  might  not  again  have  such  good  for- 
tune in  obtaining  fish;  and  their  stock  of  water  once  ex- 
hausted, it  was  too  improbable  to  suppose  they  should  ever 
be  able  to  replenish  it.  There  might  not  be  another  shower 
of  rain  for  weeks;  and  even  should  it  fall,  it  might  be  in 
such  rough  weather  that  they  could  not  collect  a  .single  quart 
of  it 

Her  slow  sailing  was  not  the  only  objection  to  the  Ca- 
tamaran. Their  experience  in  the  gale  of  the  preceding 
night  had  taught  them,  how  little  they  could  depend  upon 
her  in  the  event  of  a  real  storm.  In  very  rough  weather 
she  would  certainly  be  destroyed.  Her  timbers  under  the 
strain  would  come  apart  ;  or,  even  if  they  should  stick 
together,  and  by  the  buoyancy  of  the  empty  casks  continue 
to  keep  afloat,  the  sea  would  wash  over  them  all  the  same 
and  either  drown  or  otherwise  destroy  them. 


THE  CATAMARAN  ABANl  ONED.         539 

In  such  a  long  time  as  it  must  take  before  reaching  land, 
they  could  not  expect  to  have  a  continuance  of  fair  weather. 

With  the  gig,  —  a  first-rate  craft  of  its  kind,  —  the  case 
would  be  different. 

Ben  Brace  well  knew  the  boat,  for  he  had  often  been  one 
of  its  crew  of  rowers. 

It  was  a  fast  boat,  —  even  under  oars,  —  and  with  a  sail 
set  to  it,  and  a  fair  wind,  they  might  calculate  upon  making 
eight  or  ten  knots  an  hour.  This  would,  in  no  great  time 
enable  them  to  run  down  the  "trades,"  and  bring  them 
to  some  port  of  the  South  American  coast,  —  perhaps  to 
Guiana,  or  Brazil. 

These  speculations  occupied  them  only  a  few  seconds  of 
time.  In  fact  they  had  passed  through  their  minds  long 
before  they  arrived  alongside  the  gig ;  for  they  were  but  the 
natural  considerations  suggested  by  the  presence  of  the  boat. 

They  were  now  in  possession  of  a  seaworthy  craft.  It 
seemed  as  if  Providence  had  thrown  it  in  their  way ;  and 
they  had  no  idea  of  abandoning  it  On  the  contrary,  it  was 
the  raft  which  was  to  be  deserted. 

If  they  hesitated  about  transferring  themselves  and  their 
chattels  from  the  Catamaran  to  the  gig,  it  was  but  for  a  mo- 
ment ;  and  that  brief  space  of  time  was  only  spent  in  con- 
sidering how  they  might  best  accomplish  the  transfer. 

The  boat  had  first  to  be  got  into  a  fit  state  for  their  recep- 
tion ;  and  as  soon  as  they  had  recovered  from  the  shock 
caused  by  that  hideous  spectacle,  the  sailor  and  Snowball 
set  to  work  to  remove  the  body  out  of  sight,  as  well  as 
svu-y  trace  of  the  sanguinary  strife  that  must  have  taken 
place. 

The  mutilated  corpse  was  cast  into  the  sea,  and  sank  at 
jonce  under  the  surface,  —  though  perhaps  never  to  reach 
the  bottom,  for  those  two  ravenous  monsters  were  still 
hovering  around  the  spot,  in  greedy  expectation  of  mor« 
food  for  their  insatiable  stomachs. 


840  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

The  red  bilge-water  was  next  baled  out  of  the  boat,— 
the  inside  timbers  cleared  of  their  ensanguined  stains,  and 
swilled  with  clean  water  from  the  sea ;  which  was  in  its  turn 
thrown  out,  until  no  trace  remained  of  the  frightful  objects 
BO  lately  seen. 

A  few  things  that  had  been  found  in  the  boat  were  per 
mitted  to  remain :  as  they  might  prove  of  service  to  the 
crew  coning  into  possession.  Among  these  there  was  not 
a  morsel  of  food,  nor  a  drop  of  drinking  water ;  but  there 
was  the  ship's  compass,  still  in  good  condition  ;  and  the  sailor 
knew  that  this  treasure  was  too  precious  to  be  parted  with : 
as  it  would  enable  them  to  keep  to  their  course  under  the 
most  clouded  skies. 

As  soon  as  the  gig  was  ready  to  receive  them,  the  "stores" 
of  the  Catamaran  were  transferred  to  it.  The  cask  of  water 
was  carefully  hoisted  aboard  the  boat,  —  as  also  the  smaller 
caok  containing  the  precious  "  Canary."  The  dried  fish 
packed  inside  the  chest,  the  oars,  and  other  implements 
were  next  carried  over  the  "  gangway "  between  the  two 
crafts,  —  each  article  being  stowed  in  a  proper  place  with- 
in the  gig. 

There  was  plenty  of  room  for  everything :  as  the  boat 
was  a  large  one,  capable  of  containing  a  dozen  men ;  and 
of  course  ample  for  the  accommodation  of  the  Catcunaran's 
crew,  with  all  their  impedimenta. 

The  last  transfer  made  was  the  mast  and  sail,  which  were 
"  unshipped  "  from  the  Catamaran  to  be  set  up  on  the  gig, 
and  which  were  just  of  the  right  size  to  suit  the  latter 
craft. 

There  was  nothing  left  upon  the  raft  that  could  be  of  any 
use  to  them  on  their  boat  voyage ;  and  after  the  mast  and 
sail  had  been  removed,  the  Catamaran  appeared  completely 
dismantled. 

As  they  undid  the  lashings,  —  which  daring  the  transfer 
had  confined  her  to  the  gig,  —  a  feeling  of  sadness  pervaded 

t 


THE  CATAMARAN  ABANDONED.  341 

the  minds  of  her  former  crew.  They  had  grown  lo  feel  foi 
that  embarkation,  —  frail  and  grotesque  as  it  was,  —  a  sort 
of  attachment ;  such  as  one  may  have  for  a  loved  home 
To  them  it  had  been  a  home  in  the  midst  of  the  wilderness 
of  waters ;  and  they  cooM  not  part  from  it  without  a  strong 
feeling  of  regret. 

Perhaps  it  was  partly  for  this  reason  they  did  not  at  once 
dip  their  oars  into  the  water  and  row  away  from  the  raft ; 
though  they  had  another  reason  for  lingering  in  its  prox- 
imity. 

The  mast  had  to  be  "  stepped  "  in  the  gig  and  the  sail  bent 
on  to  it ;  and,  as  it  seemed  better  that  these  things  should  be 
done  at  once,  they  at  once  set  about  doing  them. 

During  the  time  they  were  thus  engaged,  the  boat  drifted 
on  with  the  breeze,  making  two  or  three  knots  to  the  hour. 
But  this  caused  no  separation  between  the  two  crafts ;  for 
the  same  breeze  carried  the  dismantled  raft  —  now  lying 
light  upon  the  water  —  at  the  like  rate  of  speed  ;  and  when 
at  length  the  mast  stood  amidships  in  the  gig,  and  the  sail- 
yard  was  ready  to  be  hauled  up  to  it,  there  was  scarce  a 
cable's  length  between  them. 

The  Gutamaran  was  astern,  but  coming  on  at  a  {air  rate 
of  speed,  —  as  if  determined  not  to  be  left  behind  in  thai 
lone  wilderness  of  waters ! 


642  THE  OCEAN 


CHAPTER    XCIV. 
A  "SCHOOL"  OP  SPERM-WHALES. 

f  P^O  all  appearance  the  hour  had  arrived  when  they 

1  to  look  their  last  on  the  embarkation  that  had  safely 
carried  them  through  so  many  dangers.  In  a  few  minutea 
their  sail  would  be  spread  before  a  breeze,  that  would  impel 
their  boat  at  a  rapid  rate  through  the  water  ;  and  in  a  short 
time  they  would  see  no  more  of  the  Catamaran,  crawling 
slowly  after  them.  A  few  miles  astern,  and  she  would  be 
out  of  sight,  —  once  and  forever. 

Such  was  their  belief,  as  they  proceeded  to  set  the  sail. 

Little  were  they  thinking  of  the  destiny  that  was  before 
them.  Fate  had  not  designed  such  a  sudden  separation  ; 
and  well  was  it  for  them  that  the  Catamaran  had  clung  so 
closely  upon  their  track,  as  still  to  offer  them  an  asylum, 
—  a  harbor  of  refuge  to  which  they  might  retreat,  —  for  it 
was  not  long  before  they  found  themselves  in  need  of  it. 

As  stated,  they  were  proceeding  to  set  the  sail.  They 
had  got  their  rigging  all  right,  —  the  canvas  bent  upon  the 
yard,  the  halliards  rove,  and  everything  except  hauling 
up  and  sheeting  home. 

These  last  operations  would  have  been  but  the  work  of 
six  seconds,  and  yet  they  were  never  performed. 

As  the  sailor  and  Snowball  stood,  halliards  in  hand, 
ready  to  hoist  up,  an  exclamation  came  from  little  William, 
that  caused  both  of  them  to  suspend  proceedings. 

The  boy  stood  gazing  out  upon  the  ocean,  —  his  eyes 
fixed  upon  some  object  that  had  caused  him  to  cry  out. 
Lalee  was  by  his  side  also,  regarding  the  same  object. 

"  What  is  it,  Will'm  ?  "  eagerly  inquired  the  sailor,  hoping 
the  lad  might  have  made  out  a  sail. 

William  had  himself  entertained  this  hope.     A  whitwh 


A  "  SCHOOL"   OF  SPERM-WHALES.  343 

disk  over  the  horizon  had  come  under  his  eye ;  \vhicL  for  a 
while  looked  like  spread  canvas,  but  soon  disappeared, — 
as  if  it  had  suddenly  dissolved  into  air. 

William  was  ashamed  of  having  uttered  the  exclamation, 

—  as  being  guilty  of  causing  a  "false  alarm."     Hs  was 
about  to  explain  himself,  when  the  white  object  once  more 
rose  up  against  the  sky,  —  now  observed  by  all. 

"  That 's  v/hat  I  saw,"  said  the  alarmist,  confessing  himself 
mistaken. 

"  If  ye  took  it  for  a  sail,  lad,"  rejoined  the  sailor,  "  you 
war  mistaken.  It  be  only  the  spoutin'  o'  a  sparmacety." 

"  There  's  more  than  one,  rejoined  William,  desirous  of 
escaping  from  his  dilemma.  "  See,  yonder 's  half  a  dozen 
of  them!" 

"  Theer  ye  be  right,  lad,  —  though  not  in  sayin'  there 's 
half  a  dozen.  More  like  there  be  half  a  hundred  o'  'em. 
There  's  sure  to  be  that  number,  whar  you  see  six  a-blowin' 
at  the  same  time.  There  be  a  '  school '  o'  them,  I  be  bound, 

—  maybe  a  *  body.' " 

"  Golly  ! "  cried  Snowball,  after  regarding  the  whales  for 
a  moment,  "dey  am  a-comin'  dis  way!" 

"  They  be,"  muttered  the  old  whalesman,  in  a  tone  that 
did  not  show  much  satisfaction  at  the  discovery.  "  They  're 
coming  right  down  upon  us.  I  don't  like  it  a  bit.  They  're 
on  a  '  passage,'  —  that  I  can  see ;  an'  it  be  dangerous  to  get 
in  their  way  when  they're  goin'  so,  —  especially  aboard  a 
craft  sich  as  this  un'. " 

Of  course  the  setting  of  the  sail  was  adjourned  at  this 
announcement;  as  it  would  have  been,  whether  there  had 
been  danger  or  not.  A  school  of  whales,  either  upon  their 
f<  passage "  or  when  "  gambolling,"  is  a  spectacle  so  rare, 
at  the  same  time  so  exciting,  as  not  to  be  looked  upon  with- 
out interest ;  and  the  voyager  must  be  engrossed  in  some 
very  serious  occupation  who  can  permit  it  to  pasa  without 
giving  it  his  attention. 


844  THE   OCEAN  WAIFS. 

Nothing  can  be  more  magnificent  than  the  movements  of 
these  vast  leviathan?,  as  they  cleave  their  track  through  the 
blue  liquid  element,  —  now  sending  aloft  their  plume-like 
spouts  of  white  vapor,  —  no\\  flinging  their  broad  and  fan- 
shaped  flukes  into  the  air;  at  times  bounding  with  their 
whole  bodies  several  feet  above  the  surface,  and  dropping 
back  into  the  water  with  a  tremendous  concussion,  that 
causes  the  sea  to  swell  into  huge  foam-crested  columns,  as  if 
a  storm  was  passing  over  it. 

It  was  the  thought  of  this  that  came  into  the  mind  of  the 
ex-whalesman ;  and  rendered  him  apprehensive,  —  a.s  he 
saw  the  school  of  cachalots  coming  on  towards  the  spot  occu- 
pied by  the  frail  embarkation.  lie  knew  that  the  swell 
caused  by  the  "  breaching  "  of  a  whale  is  sufficient  to  swamp 
even  a  large-sized  boat ;  and  if  one  of  the  "  body  "  now 
bowling  down  towards  them  should  chance  to  spring  out  of 
the  water  while  passing  near,  it  would  be  just  as  much  as 
they  could  do  to  keep  the  gig  from  going  upon  her  beam- 
ends. 

There  was  not  much  time  to  speculate  upon  chances,  or 
probabilities.  When  first  seen,  the  whales  could  not  have 
been  more  than  a  mile  distant :  and  going  on  as  they  were, 
at  the  rate  of  ten  knots  an  hour,  only  ten  minutes  elapsed 
before  the  foremost  was  close  up  to  the  spot  occupied  by 
the  boat  and  the  abandoned  raft. 

They  were  not  proceeding  in  a  regular  formation ;  though 
here  and  there  four  or  five  might  have  been  seen  moving  in 
a  line,  abreast  with  one  another.  The  whole  "  herd  "  occu- 
pied a  breadth  extending  about  a  mile  across  the  sea ;  and 
in  the  very  centre  of  this,  as  ill  luck  would  have  it,  lay  the 
cockle-shell  of  a  boat  and  the  abandoned  raft. 

It  was  one  of  the  biggest  "  schools  "  that  Ben  Brace  had 
ever  seen,  consisting  of  nearly  a  hundred  individuals, —  full- 
grown  females,  followed  by  their  "  calves," —  and  only  one 
old  bull,  the  pafron  and  protector  of  the  herd.  There  wai 


A  "SCHOOL"   OF  SPERM-WHALES.  345 

no  mistaking  it  for  a  "  pod '  of  whales,  —  which  would  have 
been  made  up  of  young  males  just  escaped  from  materna. 
protection,  and  attended  by  several  older  individuals  of  their 
own  sex,  —  acting  as  trainers  and  instructors. 

Just  as  the  ci-devant  whalesman  had  finished  making  this 
observation,  the  cachalots  came  past,  causing  the  sea  to  un- 
dulate for  miles  around  the  spot,  —  as  if  a  tempest  had 
swept  over,  and  was  succeeded  by  its  swell.  One  after  an- 
other passed  with  a  graceful  gliding,  that  might  have  won 
the  admiration  of  an  observer  viewing  it  from  a  position  of 
safety.  But  to  those  who  beheld  it  from  the  gig,  there  was 
an  idea  of  danger  in  their  majestic  movement,  —  heightened 
by  the  surf-like  sound  of  their  respirations. 

They  had  nearly  all  passed,  and  the  crew  of  the  gig  were 
beginning  to  breathe  freely  ;  when  they  perceived  the  larg- 
est of  the  lot  —  the  old  bull  —  astern  of  the  rest  and  com- 
ing right  towards  them.  His  head,  with  several  fathoms  of 
his  back,  protruded  above  the  surface,  which  at  intervals  he 
"fluked"  with  his  tail,  —  as  if  giving  a  signal  to  those  pre- 
ceding him,  either  to  direct  their  onward  course,  or  warn 
them  of  some  threatened  danger. 

He  had  a  vicious  look  about  him,  —  notwithstanding  his 
patriarchal  appearance,  —  and  the  ex-whalesman  uttered  an 
exclamation  of  warning  as  he  approached. 

The  utterance  was  merely  mechanical,  since  nothing 
could  be  done  to  ward  off  the  threatened  encounter. 

Nothing  was  done.  There  was  no  time  to  act,  nor  even 
to  think.  Almost  on  the  same  instant  in  which  the  warning 
cry  was  heard  the  whale  was  upon  them.  He  who  had 
uttered  it,  along  with  his  companions,  felt  themselves  sud- 
denly projected  into  the  air,  as  if  they  had  been  tossed  from 
a  catapult,  and  their  next  sensation  was  that  of  taking 
"  a  tremendous  header "  into  the  depths  of  the  fathomless 
ocean! 

All  four  soon  came  to  the  surface  again ;  and  the  two  whe 
16  » 


846  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

had  best  retained  their  senses,  —  the  sailor  and  Snowball,  — 
looked  around  for  the  gig.  There  was  no  gig  in  sight,  noi 
boat  of  any  kind  !  Only  some  floating  fragments  ;  among 
which  could  be  distinguished  a  cask  or  two,  with  a  scatter- 
ing of  loose  boards,  oars,  handspikes,  and  articles  of  ap- 
parel. Among  these  were  struggling  two  youthful  forms,^— 
recognizable  as  little  William  and  Lilly  Lalee. 

A  quick  transformation  took  place  in  the  tableau. 

A  cry  arose,  "  Back  to  the  Catamaran!  "  and  in  a  score 
of  seconds  the  boy  sailor  was  swimming  alongside  the  A.  B. 
for  the  raft ;  while  the  Coromantee,  with  Lilly  Lalee  hoisted 
upon  his  left  shoulder,  was  cleaving  the  water  in  the  same 
direction. 

Another  minute  and  all  four  were  aboard  the  embarka- 
tion they  had  so  lately  abandoned,  —  once  more  saved  from 
the  perils  of  the  deep ! 


CHAPTER    XCV. 

WOKSE    OFF    THAN    EVER. 

T INHERE  was  no  mystery  about  the  incident  that  had 
1  occurred.  It  had  scarce  created  surprise ;  for  the  mo- 
ment that  the  old  whalesman  felt  the  shock,  he  knew  what 
had  caused  it,  as  well  as  if  he  had  been  a  simple  spectator. 
The  others,  warned  by  him  that  danger  might  be  ex- 
pected in  the  passage  of  the  whales  —  though  then  unap- 
prized  of  its  exact  nature  —  were  fully  aware  of  it  now.  It 
had  come  and  passed,  —  at  least,  after  mounting  once  more 
upon  the  raft,  they  perceived  that  their  lives  were  no  longer 
in  peril. 

The  occurrence  needed  no  explanation.     Th&  detached 


WORSE  OFF  THAN  EVER.  347 

timbers  of  the  gig  floating  about  on  the  water,  and  the  shock 
they  had  experienced,  told  the  tale  with  sufficient  signifi- 
cance. They  had  been  "fluked"  by  the  bull-whale,  wboss 
fan-shaped  tail-fins,  striking  the  boat  in  an  upward  direction, 
had  shattered  it  as  easily  as  an  eggshell,  tossing  the  frag* 
ments,  along  with  the  contents,  both  animate  and  inanimate, 
several  feet  into  the  air. 

Whether  it  were  done  out  of  spite  or  wanton  playfulness, 
or  for  the  gratification  of  a  whalish  whim,  the  act  had  cost 
the  huge  leviathan  no  greater  effort  than  might  have  been 
used  in  brushing  off  a  fly ;  and  after  its  accomplishment  the 
old  bull  went  bowling  on  after  its  frolicsome  school,  gliding 
through  the  water  apparently  with  as  much  unconcern  as  if 
nothing  particular  had  transpired  ! 

It  might  have  been  nothing  to  him,  —  neither  the  capsize 
nor  its  consequences ;  but  it  was  everything  to  those  he  had 
so  unceremoniously  upset. 

It  was  not  until  they  had  fairly  established  themselves  on 
the  raft,  and  their  tranquillity  had  become  a  little  restored, 
that  they  could  reflect  upon  the  peril  through  which  they 
had  passed,  or  realize  the  fulness  of  their  misfortune. 

They  saw  their  stores  scattered  about  over  the  waves,  — 
their  oars  and  implements  drifting  about ;  and,  what  was  still 
worse,  the  great  sea-chest  of  the  sailor,  which,  in  the  hurry 
of  the  late  transfer,  had  been  packed  full  of  shark-flesh, 
they  could  not  see.  Weighted  as  it  was,  it  must  have  gone 
to  the  bottom,  carrying  its  precious  contents  along  with  it 

The  water-cask  and  the  smaller  one  containing  the  Canary 
were  still  afloat,  for  both  had  been  carefully  bunged;  but 
what  mattered  drink  if  there  was  no  meat?  —  and  not  a 
morsel  appeared  to  be  left  them. 

For  some  minutes  they  remained  idly  gazing  upon  the 
wreck,  —  a  spectacle  of  complete  ruin.  One  might  have 
supposed  that  their  inaction  proceeded  from  despair,  which 
was  holding  them  as  if  spellbound. 


348  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

It  was  not  this,  however.  They  were  not  the  sort  to  give 
way  to  despair.  They  only  waited  for  an  opportunity  to 
act,  which  they  could  not  do  until  the  tremendous  swell, 
caused  by  the  passage  of  the  whales,  should  to  some  extent 
subside. 

Just  then  the  sea  was  rolling  "  mountains  high,"  and  the 
raft  on  which  they  stood  —  or  rather,  crouched  —  was  pitch- 
ing about  in  such  a  manner,  that  it  was  as  much  as  they 
could  do  to  hold  footing  upon  it. 

Gradually  the  ocean  around  them  resumed  its  wonted 
tranquillity ;  and,  as  they  had  spent  the  interval  in  reflec- 
tion, they  now  proceeded  to  action. 

They  had  formed  no  definite  plans,  further  than  to  collect 
the  scattered  materials,  —  such  of  them  as  were  still  abore 
water,  —  and,  if  possible,  re-rig  the  craft  which  now  carried 
them. 

Fortunately  the  mast,  which  had  been  forced  out  of  its 
"stepping"  in  the  timbers  of  the  gig  and  entirely  detached 
from  the  broken  boat,  was  seen  drifting  at  no  great  distance 
off,  with  the  yard  and  sail  still  adhering  to  it.  As  these 
were  the  most  important  articles  6f  which  the  Catamaran 
had  been  stripped,  there  would  be  no  great  difficulty  in 
restoring  her  to  her  original  entirety. 

Their  first  effort  was  to  recover  some  of  the  oars.  This 
was  not  accomplished  without  a  considerable  waste  of  time 
and  a  good  deal  of  exertion.  On  the  dismantled  embarka- 
tion there  was  not  a  stick  that  could  be  used  for  rowing; 
and  it  was  necessary  to  propel  it  with  their  outspread 
palms. 

During  the  interval  of  necessary  inaction,  the  floating 
fragments  of  the  wreck  had  drifted  to  a  considerable  dis- 
tance,—  or  rather  had  the  raft,  buoyed  up  by  its  empty 
casks,  glided  past  them,  and  was  now  several  cable-len2;th& 
o  leeward. 

They  were  compelled,  therefore,  to  work  up  tru   wi»J 


THE 'DARKEST  HOUR.  849 

and  their  progress  was  consequently  slow,  —  so  slow  as  to 
become  vexatious. 

Snowball  would  have  leaped  overboard,  and  recovered  the 
oars  by  swimming :  but  the  sailor  would  not  listen  to  ihir 
proposal,  pointing  out  to  his  sable  companion  the  danger  tt 
be  apprehended  from  the  presence  of  the  sharks.  The  negit 
made  light  of  this,  but  his  more  prudent  comrade  restrained 
him ;  and  they  continued  patiently  to  paddle  the  raft  witl 
their  hands. 

At  length  a  pair  of  oars  were  got  hold  of;  and  from  thai 
moment  the  work  went  briskly  on. 

The  mast  and  sail  were  fished  out  of  the  sea  and  dragged 
aboard ;  the  casks  of  water  and  wine  were  once  more  se- 
cured ;  and  the  stray  implements  were  picked  up  one  after 
another,  —  all  except  those  of  iron,  including  the  axe,  which 
had  gone  to  the  bottom  of  the  Atlantic. 

Their  greatest  loss  had  been  the  chest  and  its  contents. 
This  was  irreparable ;  and  in  all  probability  the  precursor 
of  a  still  more  serious  misfortune,  —  the  loss  of  their  lives. 


CHAPTER    XCVI. 

THE   DARKEST   HOUK. 

DEATH  in  all  its  dark  reality  once  more  stared  them  in 
the  face.  They  were  entirely  without  food.  Of  all 
their  stores,  collected  and  cured  with  so  much  care  and  in- 
genuity, not  a  morsel  remained.  Besides  what  the  chest 
contained  there  had  been  seme  loose  flitches  of  the  dried 
fish  lying  about  upon  the  raft.  These  had  been  carried  into 
the  boat,  and  must  have  been  capsized  into  the  sea.  While 
collecting  the  other  debris,  they  had  looked  for  them  in  hopes 


(J50  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

that  some  stray  pieces  might  still  be  picked  up  ;  not  one  had 
been  found.  If  they  floated  at  all,  they  must  have  beet 
grabbed  by  the  sharks  themselves,  or  some  other  ravenous 
creatures  of  the  deep. 

Had  any  such  waifs  come  in  their  way,  the  castaways  just 
at  that  crisis  might  not  have  cared  to  eat  them  with  the  bit- 
terness they  must  have  derived  from  their  briny  immersion ; 
still  they  knew  that  in  due  time  they  would  get  over  any 
daintiness  of  this  kind ;  and,  indeed,  before  many  hours  had 
elapsed,  all  four  of  them  began  to  feel  keenly  the  cravings 
of  a  hunger  not  likely  to  refuse  the  coarsest  or  most  unpalat- 
able food.  Since  that  hurried  retreat  from  their  moorings 
by  the  carcass  of  the  cachalot  they  had  not  eaten  anything 
like  a  regular  meal. 

The  series  of  terrible  incidents,  so  rapidly  succeeding  one 
another,  along  with  the  almost  continuous  exertions  they  had 
been  compelled  to  make,  had  kept -their  minds  from  dwell- 
ing upon  the  condition  of  their  appetites.  They  had  only 
snatched  a  morsel  of  food  at  intervals,  and  swallowed  a 
mouthful  of  water. 

Just  at  the  time  the  last  catastrophe  occurred  they  had 
been  intending  to  treat  themselves  to  a  more  ceremonious 
meal,  and  were  only  waiting  until  the  sail  should  be  set,  and 
the  boat  gliding  along  her  course,  to  enter  upon  the  eating 
of  it. 

This  pleasant  design  had  been  frustrated  by  the  flukes 
of  the  whale ;  which,  though  destroying  many  other  things, 
had,  unfortunately,  not  injured  their  appetites.  These  were 
keen  enough  when  they  first  reoccupied  their  old  places  on 
the  Catamaran  ;  but  as  the  day  advanced,  and  they  continued 
to  exert  themselves  in  collecting  the  fragments  of  the  wreck, 
their  hunger  kept  constantly  increasing,  until  all  four  expe- 
rienced that  appetite  as  keenly  as  they  had  ever  done  since 
the  commencement  of  their  prolonged  and  perilous  "  cruise.' 

In  this  half-furnished  condition  it  was  not  likely  they  should 


THE  DARKEST  HOUR.  351 

nave  any  great  relish  for  work  ;  and  as  soon  as  they  had  se- 
cured the  various  waifs,  against  the  danger  of  lieing  carried 
away,  they  set  themselves  to  consider  what  chance  they  had 
to  provide  themselves  with  a  fresh  stock  of  food. 

Of  course  their  thoughts  were  directed  towards  the  deep, 
3r  rather  its  finny  denizens.  There  was  nothing  else  above, 
beneath,  or  around  them  that  could  have  been  coupled  with 
fte  idea  of  food. 

Their  former  success  in  fishing  might  have  given  them 
confidence,  —  and  would  have  done  so  but  for  an  unfortunate 
change  that  had  taken  place  in  their  circumstances. 

Their  hooks  were  among  the  articles  now  missing.  Th* 
harpoons  which  they  had  handled  with  such  deadly  effect 
upon  the  carcass  of  the  cachalot  had  been  there  left,  ~ 
sticking  up  out  of  the  back  of  the  dead  leviathan  com- 
posing that  improvised  spit  erected  for  roasting  the  shark- 
steaks.  In  short,  every  article  of  iron,  —  even  to  their 
own  knives,  which  had  been  thrown  loosely  into  the  boat, 
—  was  now  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea. 

There  was  not  a  moiety  of  metal  left  out  of  which  they 
could  manufacture  a  fish-hook  ;  and  if  there  had  been  it 
would  not  have  mattered  much,  since  they  could  not  discover 
a  scrap  of  meat  sufficient  to  have  baited  it. 

There  seemed  no  chance  whatever  of  fishing  or  obtaining 
fish  in  any  fashion  ;  and  after  turning  the  subject  ever  and 
over  in  their  minds,  they  at  length  relinquished  it  in  de- 
spair. 

At  this  crisis  their  thoughts  reverted  to  the  cachalot, — 
not  the  live,  leaping  leviathan,  whose  hostile  behavior  had 
i«  suddenly  blighted  their  bright  prospects  ;  but  the  dead 
one,  upon  whose  huge  carcass  they  had  so  lately  stood. 
There  they  might  still  find  food,  —  more  shark-meat.  If 
not,  there  was  the  whale-beef,  or  blubber :  coarse  viands,  it 
is  true,  but  such  as  may  sustain  life.  Of  that  there  was 
enough  to  have  replenished  the  larder  of  a  whole  ship'* 
crew,  —  of  a  squadron  ! 


352  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

It  was  just  possible  they  could  find  their  way  back  to  it 
for  the  wind,  down  which  they  had  been  running,  was  stiC 
in  the  same  quarter ;  and  the  whole  distance  they  had  made 
during  the  night  might  in  time  be  recovered. 

At  the  best,  it  would  have  been  a  difficult  undertaking 
and  doubtful  of  success,  even  if  there  had  been  no  other 
obstacle  than  the  elements  standing  in  their  way. 

But  there  was,  —  one  more  dreaded  than  either  the  op- 
position of  the  wind  or  the  danger  of  straying  from  their 
course. 

In  all  likelihood  their  pursuers  had  returned  to  the  spot 
which  they  had  forsaken  ;  and  might  at  that  very  moment 
be  mooring  their  craft  to  the  huge  pectoral  fin  that  had  car- 
ried the  cable  of  the  Catamaran. 

In  view  of  this  probability,  the  idea  of  returning  to  the 
dead  whale  was  scarce  entertained,  or  only  to  be  abandoned 
on  the  instant. 

Cheerless  were  the  thoughts  of  the  Catamarans  as  they 
sat  pondering  upon  that  important  question,  —  how  they 
were  to  find  food,  —  cheerless  as  the  clouds  of  night  that 
were  now  rapidly  descending  over  the  surface  of  the  sea, 
and  shrouding  them  in  sombre  gloom. 

Never  before  had  they  felt  so  dispirited,  and  yet  never 
had  they  been  so  near  being  relieved  from  their  misery.  It 
was  the  darkest  hour  of  their  despondency,  and  the  nearest 
to  their  deliverance  ;  as  the  darkest  hour  of  the  night  is  thai 
which  precedes  the  (lav. 


A  CHEERING  GUP.  353 

CHAPTER   XGVi  t. 

A    CHEERING    CUP. 

fT^HEY  made  rp  attempt  to  move  frcm  the  «pot  upoa 
1  which  the  sun  saw  them  at  setting. 

As  yet  they  had  not  restored  the  mast  with  ill  sail ;  and 
they  had  no  motive  for  toiling  at  the  oar.  All  the  little  waj 
they  might  make  by  rowing  was  not  worth  the  exertion  of 
making  it ;  and  indeed  it  had  now  become  a  question  whether 
there  was  any  use  in  attempting  to  continue  their  westward 
course.  There  was  not  the  slightest  chance  of  reaching 
land  before  starvation  could  overtake  them ;  and  they  might 
as  well  starve  where  they  were.  Death  in  that  shape  would 
not  be  more  endurable  in  one  place  than  another ;  and  it 
would  make  no  difference  under  what  meridian  they  should 
fcpend  the  last  few  minutes  of  their  lives. 

Into  such  a  state  of  mind  had  these  circumstances  now 
reduced  them,  —  a  stupor  of  despair  rather  than  the  calm- 
ness of  resignation. 

After  some  time  had  been  passed  in  this  melancholy 
.•ftood, —  passed  under  darkness  and  in  sombre  silence, — 
a  slight  circumstance  partially  aroused  them.  It  was  the 
voice  of  the  sailor,  proposing  "  supper  ! "  One  hearing  him 
might  have  supposed  that  he  too  had  taken  leave  of  his  sen- 
ses. Not  so,  nor  did  his  companions  so  judge  him.  They 
knew  what  he  mjant  by  the  word,  and  that  the  assumed 
tone  of  cheerfulness  in  which  he  pronounced  it  had  been  in- 
tended to  cheer  them.  Ben's  proposal  was  not  without 
iome  significance  ;  though  to  call  it  "  supper "  of  which  it 
was  designed  they  should  partake  was  making  a  somewhat 
figurative  use  of  the  phrase. 

No  matter  ;  it  meant  something,  —  something  to  supply 
the  place  of  a  supper,  — if  not  so  substantial  as  they  would 


354  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

have  wished,  at  least  something  that  would  not  only  prolong 
their  lives,  but  for  a  while  lighten  their  oppressed  spirits.  It 
meant  a  cup  of  Canary. 

They  had  not  forgotten  their  possession  of  this.  Had 
they  done  so,  they  might  have  yielded  to  even  a  deeper  de- 
spair. A  small  quantity  of  the  precious  grape-juice  was 
still  within  the  cask,  safe  stowed  in  its  old  locker.  They  had 
hitherto  abstained  from  touching  it,  with  the  view  of  keeping 
if.  to  the  last  moment  that  it  could  be  conveniently  hoarded. 
That  moment  seemed  to  Ben  Brace  to  have  arrived,  when 
hf  proposed  a  cup  of  Canary  for  their  supper. 

Of  course  no  objection  was  made  to  a  proposition  equally 
agreeable  to  all ;  and  the  stopper  was  taken  from  the  cask. 

The  little  measure  of  horn,  which  had  been  found  floating 
among  the  debris  of  the  wrecked  gig,  was  carefully  inserted 
upon  its  string,  drawn  out  filled  with  the  sweet  wine,  and 
then  passed  from  lip  to  lip,  —  the  pretty  lips  of  the  Lilly 
Lalee  being  the  first  to  come  in  contact  with  it. 

The  "  dipping  "  was  several  times  repeated  ;  and  then  the 
stopper  was  restored  to  its  place,  and  without  any  further 
ceremony,  the  "  supper  "  came  to  an  end. 

Whether  from  the  invigorating  effects  of  the  wine,  or 
whether  from  that  natural  reaction  of  spirits  ever  consequent 
on  a  "  spell "  of  despondency,  both  the  sailor  and  Snowball, 
after  closing  the  cask,  began  to  talk  over  plans  for  the  future. 
Hope,  however  slight,  had  once  more  made  entry  into  their 
souls. 

The  subject  of  their  discourse  was  whether  they  should  not 
forthwith  restep  the  mast  and  set  the  sail.  The  night  was 
as  dark  as  pitch,  but  that  signified  little.  They  could  manip- 
ulate the  "  sticks,"  ropes,  and  canvas  without  light ;  and  aa 
to  the  lashings  that  would  be  required,  there  could  be  no 
difficulty  in  making  ihum  good,  if  the  sight  had  been  ten 
times  darker  than  it  was.  This  was  a  trope  used  by  Snow- 
ball on  the  occasion,  regardless  of  its  physical  absurdity. 


A  CHEERING  CUP.  855 

One  argument  which  the  sailor  urged  in  favor  of  actior 
»/as,  that  by  moving  onward  they  3ould  do  no  harm.  They 
night  as  well  be  in  motion  as  at  rest,  since,  with  the  sail  aa 
their  motive  power,  it  would  require  no  exertion  on  their 
part. 

Of  course  this  reasoning  was  purely  negative,  and  migi 
not  have  gone  far  towards  convincing  the  Coromantee,— 
whose  fatalist  tendencies  at  times  strongly  inclined  him  to 
inaction.  But  his  comrade  backed  it  by  another  argument, 
of  a  more  positive  kind,  to  which  Snowball  more  readilv 
assented. 

u  By  keepin'  on'ard,"  said  Ben,  "  we  'd  be  more  like  tti 
come  in  sight  o'  something — if  there  be  anythin'  abroad. 
Besides,  if  we  lay  here  like  a  log,  we  '11  still  be  in  danger  o' 
them  ruffians  driftin'  down  on  us.  Ye  know  they  be  a 
win'ard,  an'  ha'  got  theer  sail  set,  —  that  is,  if  they  bean'* 
gone  back  to  the  sparmacity,  which  I  dar  say  they  've  done. 
In  that  case  there  mout  n't  be  much  fear  o'  'em ;  but  whether 
or  no,  it  be  best  for  us  to  make  sure.  I  say  let 's  set  the 
sail." 

"Berra  well,  Massa  Brace,"  rejoined  the  Coromantee, 
whose  opposition  had  been  only  slight.  "  Dar  am  troof  in 
wha  you  hab  'ledged.  Ef  you  say  set  de  sail,  I  say  de 
same.  Dar  am  a  lubbly  breeze  bowlum.  'Pose  we  'tick  up 
de  mass  dis  berry  instam  ob  time  ?  " 

"  All  right ! "  rejoined  the  sailor.  "  Bear  a  hand,  mv 
hearties,  and  let 's  go  at  it !  The  sooner  we  spread  the  can- 
vas the  better." 

No  further  words  passed,  except  some  muttered  phrase§ 
of  direction  or  command  proceeding  from  the  captain  of  tb* 
Catamaran  while  engaged  with  his  crew  in  stepping  the  mast 

This  done,  the  yard  was  hauled  "  apeak,"  the  "  sheets " 
drawn  "  taut "  and  "  belayed,"  and  the  wet  canvas,  spread 
out  once  more,  became  filled  with  the  breeze,  and  carrivl 
the  craft  with  a  singing  sc.und  through  the  water. 


U56  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

CHAPTER    XCVIII. 

A   PHANTOM    SHIP   OB   A    SHIP    ON    FIRE  ? 


the  Catamaran  once  more  under  sail,  and  going 
on  her  due  course,  her  crew  might  have  seemed 
restored  to  the  situation  held  by  them  previous  to  tbair 
encountering  the  dead  cachalot.  Unfortunately  for  them, 
this  was  far  from  being  the  case. 

A  change  for  the  worse  had  occurred  in  their  circum- 
stances. Then  they  were  "  victualled  "  —  if  not  to  full 
rations,  at  least  with  stores  calculated  to  last  them  for  some 
time.  They  were  provided,  moreover,  with  certain  weapons 
and  implements  that  might  be  the  means  of  replenishing 
their  stores  in  the  event  of  their  falling  short. 

Now  it  was  altogether  different.  The  Catamaran  was  as 
true  and  seaworthy  as  ever,  her  "  rig  "  as  of  yore,  and  her 
sailing  qualities  not  in  the  least  impaired.  But  her  "  fitting 
out  '  was  far  inferior,  especially  in  the  "  victualling  depart- 
ment"; and  this  weighed  heavily  upon  the  minds  of  her 
crew. 

JSotwithstanding  the  depression  of  their  spirits,  which 
soon  returned  again,  they  could  not  resist  an  inclination  for 
sleep.  It  is  to  be  remembered  that  they  had  been  deprived 
of  this  on  the  preceding  night  through  the  violence  of  the 
cale,  aiid  that  they  had  got  but  very  little  on  the  night  before 
that  trom  being  engaged  in  scorching  their  shark-meat. 

Exhausted  nature  called  loudly  for  repose  ;  and  so  uni- 
versally, that  the  complete  crew  yielded  to  the  call,  not  even 
one  ot  them  remaining  in  charge  of  the  helm. 

It  had  been  agreed  upon  that  the  craft  should  be  left  to 
choose  its  own  track  ;  or  rather,  that  which  the  wind  might 
select  tor  it. 

Gumed  by  the  breath  of  heaven,  and  by  that  alone,  did 
die  Catamaran  continue  her  course. 


A  PHANTOM  SHIP  OR  A  SHIP   ON  FIEE?  357 

How  much  way  she  made  thus  left  alone  to  herself 
la  not  written  down  in  her  "log."  The  time  alone  is  re- 
corded ;  and  we  are  told  that  it  was  the  hour  of  midnight 
before  any  individual  of  her  crew  awoke  from  that  slumber, 
to  which  "  all  hands "  had  surrendered  after  setting  her 
sail. 

The  first  of  them  who  awoke  was  little  William.  The 
Bailor  lad  was  not  a  heavy  sleeper  at  any  time,  and  on  this 
night  in  particular  his  slumbers  had  been  especially  unsound. 
There  was  trouble  on  his  mind  before  going  to  sleep,  an 
uneasiness  of  no  ordinary  kind.  It  was  not  any  fear  for  his 
own  fate.  He  was  a  true  English  tar  in  miniature,  and 
could  not  have  been  greatly  distressed  with  any  apprehen 
sions  of  a  purely  selfish  nature.  Those  that  harassed  him 
were  caused  by  his  consideration  for  another,  —  for  Lilly 
Lalee. 

For  days  he  had  been  observing  a  change  in  the  appear- 
ance of  the  child.  He  had  noticed  the  gradual  paling  of  her 
cheek,  and  rapid  attenuation  of  her  form,  —  the  natural  con- 
sequence of  such  a  terrible  exposure  to  one  accustomed  all 
her  days  to  a  delicate  and  luxurious  mode  of  existence. 

On  that  day  in  particular,  after  the  fearful  shock  they  had 
all  sustained,  the  young  Portuguese  girl  had  appeared,  —  at 
least,  in  the  eyes  of  little  William,  —  more  enfeebled  than 
ever ;  and  the  boy -sailor  had  gone  to  sleep  under  a  sad  fore- 
boding that  she  would  be  the  first  to  succumb,  —  and  that 
soon,  —  to  the  hardships  they  were  called  upon  to  en- 
counter. 

Little  William  loved  Lilly  Lalee  with  such  love  as  a  lad 
may  feel  for  one  of  his  own  age,  —  a  love  perhaps  the  sweet- 
est in  life,  if  not  the  most  lasting. 

Inspired  by  this  juvenile  passion,  and  by  the  apprehen- 
sions he  had  for  its  object,  the  boy-sailor  did  not  sleep  very 
KXindly. 

Fortunate  that  it  was  so ;  else  that  brilliant  llama  thcf 


358  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

near  the  mid-hours  of  night  glared  athwart  the  deck  of  th« 
Catamaran  might  not  have  awakened  him ;  and  had  it  not 
done  so,  neither  he  nor  his  three  companions  might  ever 
again  have  looked  upon  human  face  except  their  own, 
and  that  only  to  see  one  another  expire  in  the  agonies  of 
death. 

There  was  a  flame  far  lighting  up  the  sombre  surface  ol 
the  ocean  that  shone  upon  the  sleepy  Catamarans.  Gleam- 
ing in  the  half-closed  eye  of  the  sailor  lad,  it  awoke  him. 

Starting  up,  he  beheld  an  apparition,  which  caused  him 
surprise,  not  unmingled  with  alarm.  It  was  a  ship  beyond 
doubt,  —  or  the  semblance  of  one,  —  but  such  as  the  sailor 
lad  had  never  before  seen. 

She  appeared  to  be  on  fire.  Vast  clouds  of  smoke  were 
rising  up  from  her  decks,  and  rolling  away  over  her  stern, 
illuminated  by  columns  of  bright  flame  that  jetted  up  for- 
ward of  her  foremast,  almost  to  the  height  of  her  lower 
shrouds.  No  man  unaccustomed  to  such  a  sight  could  have 
looked  upon  that  ship  without  supposing  that  she  was  on 
fire. 

Little  William  should  have  been  able  to  judge  of  what  he 
Baw.  Unfortunately  for  himself,  the  spectacle  of  a  ship  on 
fire  was  not  new  to  him.  He  had  witnessed  the  burning  of 
the  bark  which  had  borne  him  into  the  middle  of  the  Atlantic, 
and  left  him  where  he  now  was,  in  a  position  of  extremest 
peril. 

But  the  memory  of  that  conflagration  did  not  assist  him 
in  determining  the  character  of  the  spectacle  now  befone  his 
eyes.  On  the  decks  of  the  Pandora  he  had  seen  men  en- 
deavoring to  escape  from  the  flames,  in  every  attitude  of 
wild  terror.  On  the  ship  now  in  sight  he  beheld  the  very 
reverse.  Hfc  saw  human  beings  standing  in  front  of  the 
column  of  fire,  not  only  unconcerned  at  its  proximity,  but 
apparently  feeding  the  flames  1 

Tt  was  a  spectacle  to  startle  the  most  experienced  mariner, 


A  WHALES  "TRYING  OUT."  859 

and  call  foi  th  the  keenest  alarm,  —  a  sight  to  suggest  the 
double  interrogatory,  —  "Is  it  a  phantom  ship,  or  a  ship 
on  fire?" 


CHAPTER    XCIX. 
A  WHALER  "TRYING  OUT." 

IN  making  the  observations  above  detailed,  the  boy-sailor 
had  been  occupied  scarce  ten  seconds  of  time,  —  only 
wnile  his  eye  took  in  the  singular  spectacle  thus  abruptly 
brought  before  it.  He  did  not  stay  to  seek  out  of  his  own 
thoughts  an  answer  to  the  question  that  suggested  itself;  but 
giving  way  to  the  terrified  surprise  which  the  apparition  had 
caused  him,  he  raised  a  shout  which  instantly  awoke  his 
companions. 

Each  of  the  three,  on  the  instant  of  their  awaking,  gave 
utterance  to  a  quick  cry,  but  their  shouts,  although  heard 
simultaneously,  were  significant  of  very  different  emotions. 
The  cry  of  the  girl  was  simply  a  scream,  expressive  of  the 
wildest  terror.  That  of  Snowball  was  a  confused  mingling 
of  surprise  and  alarm ;  while  to  the  astonishment  of  Wil- 
liam, and  the  other  as  well,  the  utterance  of  the  sailor  was 
a  shout  of  unrestrained  joy,  accompanied  by  the  action  of 
suddenly  springing  to  his  feet,  —  so  suddenly  that  the  Ca- 
tamaran was  in  danger  of  being  capsized  by  the  abrupt  vio- 
lence of  the  movement. 

He  did  not  give  them  time  to  ask  for  an  explanation, 
but  on  the  moment  of  getting  himself  into  an  erect  atti- 
tude he  commenced  a  series  of  shouts  and  exclamations, 
all  uttered  in  the  very  highest  key  of  which  his  voice 
was  capable. 

And  among  these  utterances,  and  conspicuously  intoned, 


660  THE   OCEAN  WAIFS. 

was  the  well-known  hail,  "  Ship  ahoy ! "  followed  by  othei 
nautical  phrases,  denoting  the  recognition  of  a  ship. 

•*  Golly  !  it  am  a  ship,"  interposed  Snowball,  "  a  ship  on 
de  fire ! " 

"  No  !  no  ! "  impatiently  answered  the  ex-whalesman, 
u  nothing  o'  the  sort.  It 's  a  whaler  '  tryin'-out '  her  oil 
Don't  you  see  the  men  yonder,  standin'  by  the  try-works, 
are  throwin'  in  the  *  scraps '  ?  Lord  o'  mercy  !  if  they 
should  pass  us  without  hearing  our  hail  !  Ship  ahoy ! 
whaler  ahoy ! "  And  the  sailor  once  more  put  forth  his 
cries  with  all  the  power  that  lay  in  lu's  lungs. 

To  this  was  added  the  stentorian  voice  of  the  Coro- 
mantee,  who,  quickly  catching  the  explanation  given  b^ 
the  ex-whalesman,  saw  the  necessity  of  making  himseli 
heard. 

For  some  moments  the  deck  of  the  Catamaran  rang  with 
the  shouts,  "  Ship  ahoy  ! "  "  AVhaler  ahoy  ! "  that  might  have 
been  heard  far  over  the  ocean,  —  much  farther  than  the  dis- 
tance at  which  the  strange  vessel  appeared  to  be ;  but,  to  the 
consternation  of  those  who  gave  utterance  to  those  cries,  no 
answer  was  returned. 

They  could  now  distinctly  see  the  ship,  and  almost  every- 
thing aboard  of  her ;  for  the  two  columns  of  flame  rising 
high  in  forward  of  her  foremast,  out  of  the  huge  double 
furnace  of  the  "  try-works,"  illuminated  not  only  the  decks 
of  the  vessel,  but  the  surface  of  the  sea  for  miles  around 
her. 

They  could  see  rolling  sternward  immense  volumes  of 
thick  smoke,  gleaming  yellow  under  the  light  of  the  blazing 
fires ;  and  the  figures  of  men  looming  like  giants  in  the  glare 
of  the  garish  flames,  —  some  standing  in  front  of  the  fur- 
nace, others  moving  about,  and  actively  engaged  in  some 
species  of  industry,  that  to  the  eye  of  any  other  than  a 
whalesman  might  have  appeared  supernatural. 

Notwithstanding  the  distinctness  with  which  they  saw  aU 


A  WHALER  "TRYING  OUT."  861 

these  things,  and  the  evident  proximity  of  the  ship,  those  on 
the  raft  could  not  make  themselves  heard,  shout  as  loudly  as 
they  would. 

This  might  have  appeared  strange  to  the  Catamaians,  and 
led  them  to  believe  that  it  was,  in  reality,  a  phantom  ship 
they  were  hailing,  and  the  gigantic  figures  they  saw  were 
those  of  spectres  instead  of  men. 

But  the  experience  of  the  ex-whalesman  forbade  any  such 
belief.  He  knew  the  ship  to  be  a  whaler,  the  moving  forma 
to  be  men,  —  her  crew,  —  and  he  knew,  moreover,  the  reason 
why  these  had  not  answered  his  hail.  They  had  not  heard 
it  The  roaring  of  the  great  furnace  fires  either  drowned 
or  deadened  every  other  sound ;  even  the  voices  of  the 
whalssmen  themselves,  as  they  stood  close  to  each  other. 

Ben  Brace  remembered  all  this ;  and  the  thought  that  the 
ship  might  pass  them,  unheard  and  unheeded,  filled  his  mind 
with  dread  apprehension. 

But  for  a  circumstance  in  their  favor  this  might  have 
been  the  lamentable  result.  Fortunately,  however,  there 
was  a  circumstance  that  led  to  a  more  happy  termination  of 
that  chance  encounter  of  the  two  strapge  crafts,  —  the  Ca- 
tamaran and  the  whale-ship. 

The  latter,  engaged,  as  appearances  indicated,  in  the  pro- 
cess of  "  trying-out "  the  blubber  of  some  whale  lately  har- 
pooned, was  "laying-to"  against  the  wind;  and,  of  couise 
not  making  much  way,  nor  caring  to  make  it,  through  the 
water. 

As  she  was  coming  up  slowly,  her  head  set  almost  "  into 
the  wind's  eye,"  the  Catamarans,  well  to  windward,  would 
have  no  difficulty  in  getting  their  craft  close  up  to  her. 

The  sailor  was  not  slow  in  perceiving  their  advantageous 
position ;  and  as  soon  as  he  became  satisfied  that  the  distance 
was  too  great  for  their  hail  to  be  heard,  he  sprang  to  the 
steering  oar,  turned  the  helm  "  hard  a  port,"  and  set  his 
craft's  head  on  towards  the  whaler,  as  if  deter.toined  to  ran 
her  down. 


3(32  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

In  a  few  seconds  the  raft  was  surging  along  within  a 
cable's  length  of  the  whaler's  bows,  when  the  cry  of  "  Ship 
ahoy ! "  was  once  more  raised  by  both  Snowball  and  the 
sailor.  Though  the  hail  was  heard,  the  reply  was  not  in- 
stantaneous ;  for  the  crew  of  the  whale-ship,  guided  by  the 
shouts  of  those  on  the  raft,  had  looked  forth  upon  the  illu- 
mined water,  and,  seeing  such  a  strange  embarkation  right 
under  their  bows,  were  for  some  moments  silent  through 
sheer  surprise. 

The  ex-whalesman,  however,  soon  made  himself  intelli- 
gible, and  in  ten  minutes  after  the  crew  of  the  Catamaran, 
instead  of  shivering  in  wet  clothes,  with  hungry  stomachi 
to  make  them  still  more  miserable,  might  have  been  seen 
standing  in  front  of  an  immense  fire,  with  an  ample  supply 
of  wholesome  food  set  before  them,  and  surrounded  by  a 
score  of  rude  but  honest  men,  each  trying  to  excel  the  other 
in  contributing  to  their  comfort. 


CHAPTER    C. 

THE   END   OF  THE  "TARN." 

K/^VCEAN  WAIFS"  no   longer,  the  crew  of  the  Oa- 
\_J  tamaran  became  embodied  with  that  of  the   ship, 
and  her  little  passenger  found  kindness  and  protection  in 
the  cabin  of  the  whaler. 

The  Catamaran  herself  was  not  "  cut  loose  "  in  the  nau- 
tical sense  of  the  term,  and  abandoned,  but  she  was  cut  loose 
in  a  literal  sense,  and  in  pieces  hoisted  aboard  the  ship  to  be 
employed  for  various  purposes,  —  her  ropes,  spars,  and  sail 
to  be  used  at  some  time  as  they  had  been  originally  in- 
tended, —  her  other  timbers  to  go  to  the  stock  of  the  can 


THE  END  OF  THE  "YARN."  363 

penter,  and  her  casks  to  the  cooper,  tx  be  eventually  filled 
with  the  precious  sperm-oil  which  the  ship's  crew  were  en- 
gaged in  trying  out. 

The  old  whalesman  was  not  long  aboard  before  getting 
confirmed  in  his  conjecture  that  the  ship  was  the  same  wnose 
boats  had  harpooned  and  "  drogued "  the  cachalot,  the  car- 
cass of  which  had  been  encountered  by  the  Catamaran.  It 
was  one  of  a  large  "  pod  "  of  whales,  of  which  the  boats  had 
been  in  pursuit,  and  these,  along  with  the  ship,  having  fol- 
lowed its  companions  to  a  great  distance,  and  killed  several 
of  them  in  the  chase,  had  lost  all  bearings  of  the  one  first 
struck. 

It  had  been  their  intention  to  go  in  search  of  it,  as  soon 
as  they  should  try  out  the  others  that  had  been  captured ; 
and  the  information  now  given  by  Ben  Brace  to  the  captain 
of  the  whaler  would  enable  the  latter  the  more  easily  to  dis- 
cover the  lost  prize,  which  he  estimated  at  the  value  of 
seventy  or  eighty  barrels  of  oil,  and  therefore  well  worth 
the  trouble  of  going  back  for.  On  the  day  after  the  cast- 
aways had  been  taken  aboard,  the  whale-ship,  having  ex- 
tinguished the  fires  of  her  try-works,  started  in  search  of  the 
drogued  whale. 

The  ex-crew  of  the  Catamaran  had  by  this  time  given  a 
full  account  of  their  adventures  to  the  whalesmen ;  at  the 
game  time  expressing  their  belief  that  the  ruffians  on  the 
big  raft  would  be  found  by  the  carcass  they  were  in  search 
of.  The  prospect  of  such  an  encounter  could  not  fail  to 
interest  the  crew  of  the  whaler ;  and  as  they  advanced  in 
the  direction  in  which  they  expected  to  find  the  drogued 
cachalot,  all  eyes  were  bent  searchingly  upon  the  sea. 

So  far  as  the  dead  whale  was  concerned,  they  were  suc- 
cessful in  their  search.  Just  as  the  sun  was  going  down, 
they  came  in  sight  of  it ;  and  before  the  twilight  had  passed 
they  "  hove  to "  along  side  of  it.  The  vast  flock  of  sea 
birds  perched  upon  the  Boating  mass,  and  that  rose  into  tho 


864  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

air  as  the  ship  approached  them,  proclaimed  the  absence  of 
human  beings.  The  great  raft  was  not  there,  nor  were 
Ihere  any  indications  that  it  had  revisited  the  carcass.  On 
the  contrary,  that  curious  structure,  the  crane,  which  the 
Catamarans  had  erected  on  the  summit  of  the  floating  mass, 
was  still  standing  just  as  they  had  left  it ;  only  that  the 
flakes  of  shark's  flesh  were  scorched  to  the  hue  and  texture 
of  a  cinder,  and  the  fire  that  had  burnt  them  was  no  longer 
blazing  beneath. 

The  fate  of  the  slaver's  castaway  crew  did  not  long  re- 
main a  mystery.  Three  days  after,  when  the  carcass  of 
the  cachalot  had  been  "  flensed "  and  tried  out,  and  the 
whaler  had  once  more  proceeded  upon  her  cruise,  she 
chanced  upon  a  spot  where  the  sea  was  strewn  with  a  variety 
of  objects,  among  which  were  two  or  three  spars  of  a  ship, 
and  several  empty  water-casks.  In  these  objects  there  was 
no  difficulty  in  recognizing  the  wreck  of  the  Pandora's  raft, 
which  was  drifting  at  no  great  distance  from  the  place  where 
they  had  been  cutting  up  the  cachalot. 

The  conclusion  was  easily  arrived  at.  The  gale,  which 
had  been  successfully  weathered  by  the  carefully  constructed 
Catamaran,  had  proved  too  violent  for  the  larger  embarka- 
tion, loosely  lashed  together,  and  negligently  navigated  as  it 
was.  As  a  consequence  it  hai  gone  to  pieces ;  while  the 
wretches  who  had  occupied  it,  not  having  the  strength  to 
cling  either  to  cask  or  spar,  had  indubitably  gone  to  the 
bottom.  As  little  William  afterwards  related, — 

"  So  perished  the  slaver's  crew.  Not  one  of  them,  — 
either  those  in  the  gig  or  on  the  raft,  ever  again  saw  the 
shore.  They  perished  upon  the  face  of  the  wide  ocean,  — 
miserably  perished,  without  hand  to  help  or  eye  to  weep 
over  them ! " 

In  truth  did  it  seem  as  if  their  destruction  had  been  an 
act  of  the  Omnipotent  Himself,  to  avenge  the  sable-skinned 
rictims  of  their  atrocious  cruelty ! 


THE  END  OF  THE  "YARN."  364 

Were  it  our  province  to  write  the  after  history  of  the 
Catamarans,  we  could  promise  out  selves  a  pleasant  task, 
perhaps  pleasanter  than  recording  the  cruise  of  that  illup- 
trious  craft. 

We  have  space  only  to  epitomize.  The  day  after  selling 
foot  upon  the  deck  of  the  whale-ship,  Snowball  was  appointed 
chef  de  caboose,  in  which  distinguished  office  he  continued  for 
several  years ;  and  only  resigned  it  to  accept  of  a  similar 
situation  on  board  a  fine  bark,  commanded  by  Captain  Ben- 
jamin Brace,  engaged  in  the  African  trade.  But  not  that 
African  trade  carried  on  by  such  ships  as  the  Pandora.  No ; 
the  merchandise  transported  in  Captain  Brace's  bark  was  not 
black  men,  but  white  ivory,  yellow  gold-dust,  palm-oil,  and 
ostrich-plumes  ;  and  it  was  said,  that,  after  each  "  trip  "  to  the 
African  coast,  the  master,  as  well  as  owner,  of  this  richly 
laden  bark,  was  accustomed  to  make  a  trip  to  the  Bank  of 
England,  and  there  deposit  a  considerable  sum  of  money. 

After  many  years  spent  thus  professionally,  and  with  con- 
tinued success,  the  ci-devant  whalesman,  man-o'-war's-man, 
ex-captain  of  the  Catamaran,  and  master  of  the  African 
trader,  retired  from  active  life ;  and,  anchored  in  a  snug  craft 
in  the  shape  of  a  Hampstead  Heath  villa,  is  now  enjoying 
his  pipe,  his  glass  of  grog,  and  his  otium  cum  dignitate. 

As  for  "  Little  William,"  he  in  turn  ceased  to  be  known 
by  this  designation.  It  was  no  longer  appropriate  when  he 
became  the  captain  of  a  first-class  clipper-ship  in  the  East 
Indian  trade,  —  standing  upon  his  own  quarter-deck  full  six 
feet  in  his  shoes,  and  finely  proportioned  at  that,  —  so  well 
as  to  both  face  and  figure,  that  he  had  no  difficulty  in  getting 
"  spliced  "  to  a  wife  that  dearly  loved  him. 

She  was  a  very  beautiful  woman,  with  a  noble  round  eye, 
jet  black  waving  hair,  and  a  deep  brunette  complexion 
Many  of  his  acquaintances  were  under  the  impression  that 
she  had  Oriental  blood  in  her  veins,  and  that  he  had  brought 
ber  home  from  India  on  one  of  his  return  voyages  from  that 


866  THE  OCEAN  WAIFS. 

country.  Those  more  intimate  with  him  could  give  a  df,f 
ferent  account,  —  one  received  from  himself;  and  which  told 
them  that  his  wife  was  a  native  of  Africa,  of  Portugues* 
extraction,  and  that  her  name  was  Lalee. 

They  had  heard,  moreover,  that  his  first  acquaintance 
with  her  had  commenced  on  board  a  slave  bark ;  and  thai 
their  friendship  as  children, —  afterwards  ripening  into  lova 
—  had  been  cemented  while  both  were  castaways  upon  i 
~mft,  —  OCEAN  WAIFS  in  the  middle  of  the  Atlantic. 


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